Then Madeline heard her come into the house and presently rap on
the door and call softly:

"Miss Hammond. Are you awake?"

"Awake and dressed, Miss Kingsley. Come in."

"Oh! You've rested. You look so--so different. I'm sure glad.
Come out now. We'll have breakfast, and then you may expect to
meet your brother any moment."

"Wait, please. I heard you speaking to Mr. Stewart. It was
unavoidable. But I am glad. I must see him. Will you please
ask him to come into the parlor a moment?"

"Yes," replied Florence, quickly; and as she turned at the door
she flashed at Madeline a woman's meaning glance. "Make him keep
his mouth shut!"

Presently there were slow, reluctant steps outside the front
door, then a pause, and the door opened. Stewart stood
bareheaded in the sunlight. Madeline remembered with a kind of
shudder the tall form, the embroidered buckskin vest, the red
scarf, the bright leather wristbands, the wide silver-buckled
belt and chaps. Her glance seemed to run over him swift as
lightning. But as she saw his face now she did not recognize it.
The man's presence roused in her a revolt. Yet something in her,
the incomprehensible side of her nature, thrilled in the look of
this splendid dark-faced barbarian.