by imperceptible
forces. If it is so with one, it is with all, and was so with the people
of Rockhaven, and their estimate and subsequent opinion of Winn Hardy.
He attended that poor little church that day out of kindly regard for
Mrs. Moore's wishes, he listened patiently to services and the sermon,
only a few sentences of which interested him, and, of course, conducted
himself as any well-behaved and well-bred young man would. And yet that
trivial act was the starting-point in the good will and confidence of
those people, the worth of which he realized not at all then and never
fully until long afterward.
Neither was he entitled to special credit for his self-sacrifice, except
it be that his desire to please that worthy matron, Mrs. Moore, overcame
his selfishness. But whether or not, it led to immediate, though minor
reward, for late that afternoon, and upon his return from a short
stroll over Norse Hill, he found her on the porch of the white cottage
next to her home, chatting with the two ladies he met at church, and he
was invited to join them. How cordially the two elderly ladies
endeavored to interest him and what a soft witchery the dark eyes of the
younger one held for him need not be enlarged upon. It mattered not that
Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Hutton were neither cultured nor fashionable; they
were at least sincere in their enjoyment of his society and meant what
they uttered, which is more than can be said of many women of position.
He learned that the girl's name was Mona, that she had never been away
from the island, and, as might be expected, was somewhat bashful and a
little afraid of him. He had a mind to ask her if she played the violin,
but a romantic desire to surprise her, or whoever the mysterious
violinist was, restrained him.
The stars were out, a perfect quietude had fallen upon the little
village, and only the ceaseless murmur of the near-by ocean whispered in
the still air, when Mrs. Moore arose to go, and, much against his will,
Winn felt compelled to follow.
In his room he smoked for an hour in solitude, buoyant with hope for his
own future, amply satisfied with the business and social progress he had
so far made, and mentally contrasting the life he had left behind him
with the new one he had entered upon; and into these meditations, it
must be stated, came the faces of Ethel Sherman and Mona Hutton.
And so ended Winn's first Sunday on Rockhaven.
CHAPTER VIII
THE HAND OF FATE
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