"OH, THAT WORD 'REGRET!'"

"I think we shall find her here under her favorite tree," said Earle Winans as he and Lord Chester came down toward the river.

It was the morning after the picnic, and Earle had gone after breakfast to the station to meet his friend, Lord Chester.

Precious and Norah, with the ever faithful Kay, had gone down to the river as soon as the dew was dry on the grass.

Precious sat under an apple tree with her dog at her feet. Norah chose another tree close by and resumed her favorite lace knitting.

It was a scene of the most exquisite beauty, and the spirit of peace seemed brooding over the spot.

The orchard trees were pink with bloom, and the soft green grass was studded with violets, pale yellow cowslips and golden buttercups. Overhead arched a sky as blue as that of Italy, and in the sweet warm sunshine the blithe birds were flitting and singing, while the hum of bees in the may blooms blent in the music of the river rippling along at the young girl's feet.

She had taken along a book to read, but she had not opened it yet. She was gazing dreamily at the river, now and then throwing flowers on the swift-flowing stream and watching them drift away out of sight.

So the young men came upon her unawares, and when Lord Chester saw her he started with keen delight at the lovely vision. When he had told Ethel how much he admired her sister's portrait she had answered that it was flattered, that Precious was not half so beautiful.

He realized instantly that Ethel had spoken falsely that day.

Precious Winans, in her white gown and with her pearl-fair face, velvet-blue eyes, and cloud of golden ringlets, was the most exquisite beauty he had ever beheld. She looked like a young angel strayed away from paradise, and when she raised to his her liquid eyes, so clear and innocent, he saw mirrored in their depths a pure, true soul.

Then Earle said in his most genial tone:

"Precious, this is Lord Chester. You must be very friendly with him, for some day he will be your brother. He tells me he is engaged to Ethel."

"I am very glad," Precious answered simply.

She rose and put out her hand to him. He clasped it a moment with lingering pressure, and while he held it felt himself grow dizzy with a rapture so keen it was akin to pain.

He murmured something in a low voice, he scarcely knew what; then Earle said carelessly:

"I will leave you two to entertain each other while I go over and tease Norah a little."

He turned away and left the pair together—two young romantic hearts in that romantic spot.

Precious stole a shy glance at her companion, and her girlish heart thrilled with admiration for his manly beauty.

How grand and handsome he was! so tall, so graceful, his complexion so clear and pale, his eyes such a splendid dark-gray, his close-clipped hair such a shining chestnut brown, where it lay in careless waves on his broad white brow.

They sat down close together, and Kay, after one or two suspicious sniffs, threw himself on Lord Chester fawningly, recognizing him as his comrade on the eventful occasion when their combined powers had saved Precious from the fire.

"Kay remembers you," said Precious softly. "It was to you and him I owed my life that night. I—I—have wished to thank you so often, but now words fail me. Oh, Lord Chester, I cannot express my gratitude. I was so young to die like that—to leave the beautiful gay world!"

She spoke as if life was a great boon. She was so young and fortunate, she did not dream of all the sorrow the world contained; she had a horror of death, that is so welcome to many.

"Do not thank me for doing my duty. It is reward enough for me to be sitting here looking at you and listening to you," he answered gently, as he caressed the mastiff that fawned at his knee, and his words were simple truth.

It gave him a keen and subtle pleasure to breathe the same air with Precious. The sky was bluer, the air sweeter, the sunshine more golden, the bird songs sweeter, because they two were together there, smiling at each other.

"Tell me about papa and mamma," she said, after a moment's silence.

"They are well. I saw them yesterday. I went to the capitol with your mother and sister. Your father made a great speech on the tariff—the most brilliant and telling effort I ever heard from his lips. He was applauded to the echo. The galleries went wild."

"Dear papa. If I only had been there!" she cried, and her eyes kindled with pride.

"In the afternoon," he continued, "I attended Mrs. Winans and Ethel to the reception at the White House given by the president to the cabinet ministers, senators and representatives. It was a grand affair, and the banquet was magnificent."

"What did mamma wear? And Ethel?" she queried, with feminine curiosity over silks and laces.

Lord Chester laughed and said:

"Very few men can describe a woman's dress. I'm not an adept at it, but I remember how they looked. Your mamma wore a pale silvery-blue brocade, softened by dainty real lace and pearls and diamonds. She looked very beautiful. Your sister looked like a queen, in a white silk embroidered lavishly with gold. Her hair was arranged in Grecian style with a fillet of gold studded with rubies. She had so many admirers it was difficult for any one to get within speaking distance."

"Dear Ethel, she is so beautiful. She looks like papa, with his splendid eyes and rarely sweet smile! How I wish I had been there with them! But mamma has promised that I shall come out in society next winter. I shall be past seventeen then—too young, mamma and Ethel say, but papa is on my side, and we shall carry the day!" with a sunny, willful smile.

"You are General Winans' favorite, I know," returned the young man, smiling, and he said to himself that he applauded her father's taste. His betrothed was very beautiful and queenly, but her sister was the realization of a man's ideal of everything lovely and lovable.

"I wonder if they thought of me moping here in the country!" continued Precious softly.

"Yes, I am sure they did, for I heard your father saying to his wife that he had been thinking of you all the afternoon, and that he really must get away Saturday and spend Sunday with you at Rosemont."

"Oh, I shall be so glad. I shall beg him to let me go home with him," she cried beamingly. "Didn't they send me any message by you, Lord Chester?"

"They didn't know I was coming. It was after I had left them that evening I received the telegram from Earle to join him here for a day or two. I didn't have time to leave a note for Ethel; had to hustle to catch my train, you know. I can send her a line to-day."

Earle sauntered back to them, saying:

"I am going to the house now. Have some letters to write. Do you care to come now?"

"Do you need me?"

"Not for two hours yet."

"Then I will stay here with your sister awhile longer, if she will let me. I am lazy to-day, and this dolce far niente suits my mood exactly."

"Stay, then, for you certainly look the perfection of indolence. Precious, you can bring him back when you get ready."

He turned away and then Norah called:

"I must go back, too."

"I am coming presently," Precious answered coaxingly, as she pulled Kay's ears.

Lord Chester picked up her book from the grass.

"You were reading. Perhaps I disturb you?" interrogatively.

"You may read to me, if you will. I should like it very much," she answered, leaning her golden head back against the tree, her eyes half closed and dreamy, a pensive smile on her rosebud lips.

Seen thus she looked adorable. He gazed at her earnestly and felt as if he would give the world to kiss those exquisite crimson lips.

Then he pulled himself together with a pang. He was betrothed to Ethel. What right had he to feel his heart throb faster at the sight of her sister's beauty? Those luscious pouting lips were not for him.

The little blue book opened at random in his hand. His eyes fell on a suggestive line:

The young man started and trembled. Then he read on:

He was silent so long that the dreamy, half-shut eyes unclosed and looked at him in wonder.

"Are you not going to read?" she asked in a tone of disappointment.

"I don't think my voice is in tune to-day. I'm hoarse as a raven. I'll read you a verse and then you will cry, 'Hold! enough.'"

She laughed, and Lord Chester began:

His voice was discordant with the hoarseness of subtle pain. He let the little book fall on the grass.

"You see?" he said.

"Yes you do not read well," she answered frankly. "But how can I amuse you? Shall I read to you, or talk?"

"Neither," he replied with a forced smile. "Let us sit very, very quiet for awhile and listen to the river. It has a voice, you know, and when we listen thoughtfully it will repeat over and over some one word, according to your fancy. Then you shall tell me what it said to you and I will confess what it said to me."

"What a romantic thought! but I like it," cried Precious, and for some time both remained silent; listening to the low, monotonous ripple of the river.

She did not know that he wanted to be silent awhile to fight a battle with his own heart, to gain strength to bear a cross of pain.

"Well?" he asked her presently in a gentle voice.

She answered pensively:

"It kept whispering, whispering over and over, one sad word: 'Regret! regret! regret!'"

"Mine was similar," said Lord Chester. "Its burden was, 'Too late! too late! too late!'"

He looked at her, and she lost her pensive air and smiled.

"I felt quite solemn while I was silent," she said. "And it was several minutes before I could make out the river's words. I am sorry they gave us plaintive words."

"I was wondering," he answered dreamily, "whether each would catch the same word."

"Oh, that would have been very amusing," cried Precious.

"Yes," he answered gently, "there was one word—one—that I should have liked it to echo to both our hearts. I should have taken it for a prophecy."

"What word?" asked Precious with innocent curiosity.

In spite of herself she returned his look. Dark-gray eyes met the tender blue ones in one long, lingering, thrilling glance. What did they say to each other?

With an effort Precious withdrew her eyes from his, the color flaming up into her cheeks, her bosom heaving a low soft sigh, while Lord Chester echoed the sigh and looked away at the distant hills in a strange silence. Yet he had answered the girl's question without a word!

And after that it was hard to make conversation.

At last Precious grew frightened at her own silence.

She felt so strangely, her cheeks burned, her heart beat heavily in the stillness, her lips seemed glued together.

Suddenly he spoke, but without turning his glance from the mountains:

"Pardon my silence. I must seem very dull to you. I was trying to hear the river say your word 'Regret.'"

And before she could answer he added:

"Do you know Miss Ingelow's poem 'Regret?'"

She answered in a low voice, with a deepening flush:

"Yes, I found it once in a book of mamma's, heavily underlined. It begins like this:

"Ugh! it gives me the dismals!" he groaned, and she paused diffidently.

That strange, throbbing silence fell again, and frightened her. It was like some mesmeric spell.

She cried out quickly:

"Let us go up to the house."

Her broad leghorn sun-hat lay on the grass and she stretched out her arm for it.

A terrible shriek followed.

In the soft green grass beneath the broad brim of the hat a deadly rattlesnake had lain coiled. At her disturbing touch it reared its evil head and struck its fangs into her arm.

Lord Chester saw it all, and with a loud cry sprang forward, setting his heel on the serpent's head ere it could strike the second blow. It writhed hideously for a moment, then lay still in death.

Precious had fallen back, deathly pale and half unconscious, against the tree. He fell on his knees beside her and cried out tenderly:

"Do not be frightened, my darling. I will suck the poison from the wound."

And he placed his lips on the tiny wound on her slender wrist and with desperate fervor drew forth the fatal venom, spitting it again and again on the ground.

When he felt that the danger was removed, he looked up at her and saw that her eyes wore closed in apparent unconsiousness. With uncontrollable love he clasped her in his arms and kissed the cold white lips, sobbing:

"My love! my darling!"