The Castle Of The Shadows

								

wave of hair; so to the piquant profile which to those who loved Virginia
Beverly, was dearer than cold perfection.
"Oh, the olive woods!" she exclaimed. "How sweet they are! See the way
the sunshine touches the old, gnarled trunks, and what a lovely light
filters through the leaves. One never sees it anywhere except in an olive
grove. I should like to live in one."
"Well, why not?" laughed the Englishman. "What prevents you from buying
two or three? But you would soon tire of them, my child, as you do of
everything as soon as it belongs to you."
"That's not fair," replied the girl. "Besides, if it were, who has helped
to spoil me? I will buy an olive grove, and you shall see if I tire of
it. Come, let's ride up the valley, and find out if there are any for
sale. It looks heavenly cool after this heat."
"You'll soon discover that it's too cool," said the Italian, in perfect
English. "The sun is only in these valleys for a few hours, and it's gone
for the day now. Besides, there's nothing interesting here. One sees the
best from where we stand."
Virginia Beverly turned her eyes upon him, and let them dwell on his face
questioningly. "Of course, you must know every inch of this country," she
said, "as you used to live just across the Italian border."
For once he did not answer her look. "I haven't spent much time here for
several years. Paris has absorbed me," he said evasively. "One forgets a
good deal; but if you want to see a really charming valley, we had better
go farther on. Then I think I can show you one."
Virginia's pretty brows, which were many shades darker than her hair,
drew together. "But I don't want to go farther," she said. "And I like
this valley."
"Spoilt child!" ejaculated the Englishman, who claimed rights of
cousinship, though by birth Virginia was American.
At that moment two members of the riding party, who had contrived to be
left behind, came leisurely up. One was a very handsome, dark woman, who
succeeded in looking not more than thirty, the other a young man of
twenty-five, enough like Virginia to suggest that they were brother and
sister.
"What are you stopping for?" inquired Lady Gardiner, who would not have
been sorry to keep her friends in advance.
"Waiting for you," said Virginia promptly. "I want to explore this
valley."
As she spoke she gave her mare a little pat on the velvety neck. The
animal, which was Virginia's own, brought from her namesake state, had
never known the touch of the whip, but understood the language of hand
and voice. She went off at a trot up the shadowed road; and the Marchese
Loria was the first to follow. But he bit his lip under the black
moustache, pointed in military fashion at the ends, and appeared more
annoyed than he need because a pretty girl had insisted upon having her
own way.
It was not yet cold, as he had prophesied, but it was many degrees cooler
than in the sunshine; and as they rode on the valley narrowed, the soft