was surely to be congratulated on the
prize he had won.

Meanwhile, Ned had discovered Lyle, as she stood partially hidden
among the vines, awaiting her turn, and hastened to greet her in his
impetuous fashion.

"How do you do, Miss Maverick? I'm awfully glad to see you. I want you
to know my brother," and his cheerful voice sounded on his brother's
ear, as he replied to some remark of Miss Gladden's.

"Morton, I want to introduce you to our nightingale; Miss Maverick,
allow me to make you acquainted with my brother."

With a rare smile lighting up his face, Morton Rutherford turned
toward the speaker, and as he did so, saw a vision of the most royal
young womanhood his eyes had ever beheld. She, too, was dressed in
white, but it was a filmy, cloud-like mass, with trimmings of ethereal
blue. She wore no jewels, but a crown of golden hair gleamed like a
coronet above her head, and her delicately molded face had a
spirituelle beauty and radiance unlike any living face he had ever
seen, and which he could only compare to the exquisite Madonna faces,
painted by artists of the old world, and of the olden time.

And Lyle, coming forward with unconscious, queenly grace, looked for
an instant into that face whose subtle power she already felt, her
wondrous, starry eyes, luminous with a new, strange light, meeting his
with their depth of meaning, their powerful magnetism, and from that
brief instant, life for each was changed, wholly and completely;
whether for good or ill, for weal or woe, neither as yet could say.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

It was a very congenial little company that somewhat later gathered
about the dinner table. There were no outsiders present on this
occasion to check their conversation, and the room resounded with
merry laughter as the young men related various reminiscences of their
college days, or as Lyle gave her eastern friends some amusing
glimpses of western life.

Morton Rutherford added his share to the general enjoyment, as he gave
in an inimitable manner which fascinated his listeners, sketches of
places and people he had met in his western journey; but a close
observer would have noticed that his dark eyes often wandered to the
face of the fair hostess, presiding at the table with such dignity,
and his thoughts much of the time were far removed from the subject of
conversation.

Of the strange, wild tumult in Lyle's breast there was no token, save
in her heightened color, and the add