He reined in his steed as he spoke, and, waiting beside the road until the young ladies came up, made some remark to Kitty relating to a question she had asked him concerning Virginian roads as compared with those of the West, and, by turning into the track beside her, rather obliged Dora to ride forward to the turn of the road, where Karl awaited her.  But Kitty’s satisfaction in the decided intention Mr. Brown had shown of speaking to her was rather dampened by perceiving how frequently his attention wandered from what she was saying, and how earnestly his eyes were fixed upon the two figures riding briskly in advance.

“If he can only look at Dora, why don’t he go and ride with her?” muttered Kitty; and, as her companion turned his eyes inquiringly upon her, she asked aloud,—­

“Are you pretty quick at hearing, Mr. Brown?”

“Not especially.  Why?”

“Oh!  I thought you looked as if you would like to hear what Charlie is saying to Dora.”

“And you thought it was very rude of me to be so inattentive to you,” added Mr. Brown, bending his dark eyes upon her with a smile.

Kitty colored guiltily, and answered hastily,—­

“Oh dear, no!  I’m used to finding myself of no account beside Dora.”

Mr. Brown looked again at her, and then, with a sudden association of ideas, asked,—­

“Kitty, are you going to tell me, before I go away, what made you feel so badly the day I came and found you in the wood?”

Again Kitty’s face glowed beneath his gaze, and her bright black eyes drooped in rare confusion.  She was about to answer hastily and coldly, but found herself checked by a softer impulse.  Why should she not tell him somewhat of the trouble at her heart, and so win at least sympathy and pity, if nothing more?  So she said in a low voice,—­

“No one cares much for me, I think.”

“No one?-not your brother?”

Kitty raised her eyes to the far vista point where Karl and Dora vanished into the forest, their horses moving close to each other’s side, and then brought them back to the face of her companion.  The look was eloquent, and he said,—­

“Yes; but by and by, perhaps, he will not be so engrossed.”

The young girl raised her head with a superb gesture.

“To wait for by and by, when some one else has done with him, is not my idea of love.”

Mr. Brown looked at her more attentively, and smiled.

“I think the day will come when some man will love you first and best of all,” said he, in a tone, not of flattery, but of honest admiration, which fell like sunlight upon the waste places of poor Kitty’s heart.

“Oh!  I’m not good enough, or smart enough, or good-looking enough.  He never will,” replied she hastily, and then colored crimson again at the meaning beneath her words.

Again Mr. Brown keenly eyed her, and asked,—­

“He?  Do you mean some one in particular?  No:  forgive me.  I have no right to ask such a question.  I am only your friend, not a father confessor.”