I have wondered at the
artist's friendship with him."
"I tell you, Myra, Lagrange is all right," said Brian Oakley, stoutly.
"He's odd and eccentric and rough spoken sometimes; but he's not at all
what you would think him from the stuff he writes. He's a true man at
heart, and you needn't worry about Sibyl getting anything but good from an
acquaintance with him. As for King--well--Conrad Lagrange vouches for him.
If you knew Lagrange, you'd understand what that means. He and the young
fellow's mother grew up together. He swears the lad is right; and, from
what I've seen of him, I believe it. It doesn't follow, though, that you
don't need to keep your eyes open. The girl is as innocent as a
child--though she is a woman--and--well--accidents have happened, you
know." As he spoke he glanced unconsciously at the scars that disfigured
the naturally beautiful face of the woman.
Myra Willard blushed as she answered sadly, "Yes, I know that accidents
have happened. I will talk with Sibyl; and will you not speak to her too?
She loves you so, and is always guided by your wishes. A little word or
two from you would be an added safeguard."
"Sure I'll talk to her," said the Ranger, heartily--rising and whistling
to the chestnut.
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