It was a beautiful night, bright with moonlight and starlight, and
sweet with balmy air and the breath of fragrant flowers. Leonora sat
at the window and silently drank in the sweet influences of the balmy
night. She would have liked to go out, but she did not suggest it, for
fear of shocking her aunt.
"Are there any old ruins about here, Aunt West, and any pretty
scenery?" she inquired, presently.
"Oh, yes; there are the old Abbey ruins, about two miles from here.
They are very pretty and picturesque. Artists go there to sketch, and
picnic parties to frolic. Devonshire is a very pretty place, anyhow. A
great many people come here to make pictures."
"So I have heard," said Leonora. "May I go there some day--to the
Abbey, I mean--and make a picture, Aunt West?"
"You, child? Can you sketch?"
"A little," demurely. "Indeed I have some talent for it. I have drawn
some little things good enough to sell."
"Can you, really?" cried the housekeeper, in surprise.
"Yes, indeed," said Leonora, smiling. "To-morrow I will unpack my
trunks and show you some pictures I did last year--some in California,
some in New York State, some in Virginia, and some in West Virginia."
"All those places?" said Mrs. West. "Why, my dear, you must have
traveled a great deal."
"I have," Leonora answered, carelessly.
"But could poor Dick--could your papa afford it?" inquired Mrs. West,
bewildered.
"Sometimes--whenever he found a large gold nugget--he could," said
Leonora. "We always had a little trip somewhere then. Papa was very
fond of traveling."
"It must have cost a great deal of money, and--weren't you afraid, my
dear? I have heard--at least I have read--that there are many Indians
in Virginia."
"Oh, my dear aunt!" cried Leonora, amazed at such lamentable ignorance;
then, in a moment, she added, kindly: "That was a great many years ago,
aunt--when Christopher Columbus discovered America. There are not any
Indians there now."
"Oh!" said Mrs. West, relieved, and with a sudden overwhelming feeling
of dense ignorance, which Leonora saw so plainly that she turned the
conversation kindly back to its first channel.
"But you haven't told me yet, aunt, if I may go and sketch the Abbey
ruins. I suppose they are out of Lady Lancaster's jurisdiction,"
disdainfully.
"They are not, child, for they belong to Lord Lancaster; but I don't
think there can be any objection. She never goes there herself," said
Mrs. West.
"Then I shall go there some day and get a picture. Perhaps it may be
good enough to sell. I'm going to try to help support myself, Aunt
West."
"You need not, my dear, for I have savings enough for us both, and you
are welcome to your share," said the good soul, kindly.
"I shall not touch a penny. I shall sell pictures enough to buy my
dresses," said Leonora, with a confident air.
"They will have to be very good ones, dear," dubiously.
"I shall try to make them so," laughing.
At that moment a burst of music swelled upon the air--one of Strauss's
most intoxicating waltzes. Leonora's heart thrilled to the sound.
"How delicious!" she cried.
"It is the band. The dance has begun," cried Mrs. West. "Come, Leonora,
you shall have a peep at it."
"Not from the shelter of another hot china-closet, I hope," said the
girl, laughing. "I am afraid of the cobwebs and the spiders."
"We will find a better place this time. Put something over your head,
Leonora; we shall have to go out-doors, and the dew is heavy."
Leonora wound a dark veil turban fashion about her head.
"Now?" she said.
"Yes, that will do; come on," Mrs. West replied.
They went on a little balcony shrouded in vines, from which they could
peep unobserved through an undraped window into the brightly lighted
ball-room.
"Perhaps this will not do any better than the china-closet, after all,"
said Mrs. West, dubiously. "These vines are so thick, there may be bugs
and spiders in them, too."
Leonora, shuddering, exclaimed, "Ugh! I can feel them creeping now!"
and then declared that she would stay ten minutes, anyhow.
"Isn't it a pretty sight? Did you ever see anything so pretty, my
love?" exclaimed Mrs. West, proudly.