When Muriel entered the house she found awaiting her a letter from Gene,and strange indeed was the postmark, for with his good friend, theViscount of Wainwater, the lad was traveling in foreign lands.
There were several sheets of thin paper and these were covered with suchfine handwriting that it took the girl much longer than usual to decipherthem.
She retired to the doctor's den directly after the evening meal, andhaving made a fire on the hearth, she curled up in a big, comfortablechair near the reading table, for she felt that she wanted to be alonewhile she had this visit with the far-away lad who called himself herbrother-friend.
The first part of the epistle was devoted to descriptions of theirtravels and adventures.
Then came some personal news items, the most astonishing of these beingthat Monsieur Carnot had received a cablegram informing him that Mariannewas leaving High Cliffs Seminary at once and would return to France tocomplete her education. Her reason for this unexpected action was notgiven.
Another page was devoted to the viscount. "Sister-friend," Gene hadwritten, "how I do hope that some day you may meet this wonderful manwhose conversation is to me more delightful than any book I have everread, whose considerate thoughtfulness of all whom we meet, especiallythose who are poor or in trouble, makes him more a nobleman than does histitle.
"I have saved until the close of this long, rambling letter a bit of newsthat will rejoice your heart, even as it did mine. You will recall thatyou told me that I might show your poem, 'The Lonely Pelican,' to mypoet-friend, Wayne, but that you would rather that I did not tell himabout yourself, although why you made the request I am sure I cannotguess. Muriel, I don't want you ever to be ashamed of who you are, forthough your parents were simple fisherfolk, you are a princess amonggirls. I am as proud to know you as I am to know the Viscount ofWainwater. This was his comment when he finished reading your littlepoem: 'Gene, I would be glad had I written that. It is a lovely thing.'
"Muriel, some day may I tell him about you; how your little girlhood wasspent cradled out there on Windy Island among the wild sea waves,companioned by that splendid old man who was one of nature's truestnoblemen, and with only birds and Shags for playmates? He will betterunderstand your poem. Address your next letter to Cairo, care of theAmerican Consul."
For a long time Muriel sat curled up in that deep cushioned chair gazinginto the fire and dreaming dreams. How strange, how unreal, that she, thedaughter of a long line of seafaring people, should be the friend of alad who was the chosen comrade of a viscount, and yet Gene had spokentruly, no man could be more noble than her own grandfather.
Then came a tap on the closed door and the pleasant voice of Miss Gordon:"Nine o'clock, dear. You know our resolution--to retire at that hour."Instantly Muriel was on her feet, rebuking herself for having left MissGordon alone. Opening the door, she said: "Won't you come in? It won'tmatter, will it, if we stay up a little later this evening? I would likeyou to read this wonderful letter from Gene Beavers."
And so it was that Miss Gordon was ensconced in the big comfortable chairand with Muriel on a stool at her feet, the older woman read the letteraloud. "What a privilege it is for your friend Gene to have thecompanionship of that prince among men. I have often greatly admired theverses of Wayne Waters, and, dear----" The older woman paused and lookedthoughtfully into the fire.
As she had hesitated, Muriel glanced up questioningly. "I had thoughtthat I would not tell you," Miss Gordon continued, "but now I believethat I will. Before we left High Cliffs, Miss Humphrey found a poem in anew magazine, the title of which was 'The Moor in Winter.'"
"Oh, Miss Gordon, then you have found out about Marianne and----"
"You knew all the time, Muriel, and did not tell me?" The girl bowed herhead. "Yes. Gene had written telling me about that poem." Suddenlylooking up, she inquired: "Is that why Marianne is leaving High Cliffs?"
"Yes," was the reply. "Miss Humphrey is acting principal during myabsence and she has expelled the young plagiarist."