led from the parlor, while the small table, laid for three, had almost an
air of elegance, with its spotless cloth, its few pieces of silver, china,
and cut glass, relics of former glory, and the tiny vase of flowers, with
the dew and rain still on them, which Virgie had gathered from the edge of
the cliff near by.

Mr. Heath's glance expressed something of surprise as it swiftly took in
these appointments; but to him the fairest sight of all was the slim but
perfect figure of the young girl who sat at the head of the table, and
poured his coffee, and waited upon him with all the ease and
self-possession of one who had been long accustomed to the formalities and
etiquette of high life.

The young man wondered at it. There was no other woman in the house, nor
had been since they came there, for Mr. Abbot had mentioned that he lost
his wife more than six years ago; but this girl was a perfect little
hostess, and dainty, to the last degree, in her person. Her hands were
white and delicate, the pretty pink nails without a blemish; her hair
soft and silken, showing a careful wielding of the brush; her linen collar
and cuffs were immaculate, her handkerchief white as snow, and fine and
sheer, while everything about her bespoke lady-like refinement and a high
regard for nicety of toilet.

He could hardly keep his eyes off her, she was so fair a picture; but once
or twice she had looked up and caught his glance, flushed, and fearing to
embarrass her, he turned resolutely to his host and opened a subject upon
which he had been thinking quite, seriously.

"I understood you to say last evening, I believe, sir, that you were
desirous of disposing of your claim," he remarked.