the girl won't thank you, and you'll be a fool for your pains,"returned Mrs. Randolph, with dry persistency.
"But according to your own ideas of propriety, Mallory ought to be thefirst one to be consulted--and by me, too."
"Not in this case. Of course, before any actual engagement is on, youcan speak of Emile's attentions."
"But suppose Mallory has other views. Suppose he declines the honor. Theman is no fool."
"Thank you. But for that very reason he must. Listen to me, major; if hedoesn't care to please his daughter for her own sake, he will have todo so for the sake of decency. Yes, I tell you, she has thoroughlycompromised herself--quite enough, if it is ever known, to spoil anyother engagement her father may make. Why, ask Adele! The day of theearthquake she ABSOLUTELY had the audacity to send him out of the roomupstairs into your study for her fan, and then follow him up therealone. The servants knew it. I knew it, for I was in her room at thetime with Father Antonio. The earthquake made it plain to everybody.Decline it! No. Mr. Mallory will think twice about it before he doesthat. What's that? Who's there?"
There was a sudden rustle in the bushes like the passage of somefrightened animal--and then all was still again.
CHAPTER V
The sun, an hour high, but only just topping the greenish crests of thewheat, was streaming like the morning breeze through the open length ofTom Bent's workshed. An exaggerated and prolonged shadow of the younginventor himself at work beside his bench was stretching itself far intothe broken-down ranks of stalks towards the invisible road, and fallingat the very feet of Rose Mallory as she emerged from them.
She was very pale, very quiet, and very determined. The traveling mantlethrown over her shoulders was dusty, the ribbons that tied her hat underher round chin had become unloosed. She advanced, walking down the lineof shadow directly towards him.
"I am afraid I will have to trouble you once more," she said with afaint smile, which did not, however, reach her perplexed eyes. "Couldyou give me any kind of a conveyance that would take me to San Jose atonce?"
The young man had started at the rustling of her dress in the shavings,and turned eagerly. The faintest indication of a loss of interest wasvisible for an instant in his face, but it quickly passed into a smileof recognition. Yet she felt that he had neither noticed any change inher appearance, nor experienced any wonder at seeing her there at thathour.
"I did not take a buggy from the house," she went on quickly, "for Ileft early, and did not want to disturb them. In fact, they don't knowthat I am gone. I was worried at not hearing news from my father in SanFrancisco since the earthquake, and I thought I would run down to SanJose to inquire without putting them to any trouble. Anything will dothat you have ready, if I can take it at once."
Still without exhibiting the least surprise, Bent nodded affirmatively,put down his tools, begged her to wait a moment, and ran off in thedirection of the cabin. As he disappeared behind the wheat, she lapsedquite suddenly against the work bench, but recovered herself a momentlater, leaning with her back against it, her hands grasping it on eitherside, and her knit brows and determined little face turned towards theroad. Then she stood erect again, shook the dust out of her skirts,lifted her veil, wiped her cheeks and brow with the corner of a smallhandkerchief, and began walking up and down the length of the shed asBent reappeared.
He was accompanied by the man who had first led her through the wheat.He gazed upon her with apparently all the curiosity and concern that theother had lacked.
"You want to get to San Jose as quick as you can?" he saidinterrogatively.
"Yes," she said quickly, "if you can help me."
"You walked all the way from the major's here?" he continued, withouttaking his eyes from her face.
"Yes," she answered with an affectation of carelessness she had notshown to Bent. "But I started very early, it was cool and pleasant, anddidn't seem far."
"I'll put you down in San Jose inside the hour. You shall have my horseand trotting sulky, and I'll drive you myself. Will that do?"
She looked at him wonderingly. She had not forgotten his previousrestraint and gravity, but now his face seemed to have relaxed with somehumorous satisfaction. She felt herself coloring slightly, but whetherwith shame or relief she could not tell.
"I shall be so much obliged to you," she replied hesitatingly, "and sowill my father, I know."
"I reckon," said the man with the same look of amused conjecture; then,with a quick, assuring nod, he turned away, and dived into the wheatagain.
"You're all right now, Miss Mallory," said Bent, complacently. "Dawsonwill fix it. He's got a good horse, and he's a good driver, too." Hepaused, and then added pleasantly, "I suppose they're all well up at thehouse?"
It was so evident that his remark carried no personal meaning to herselfthat she was obliged to answer carelessly, "Oh, yes."
"I suppose you see a good deal of Miss Randolph--Miss Adele, I thinkyou call her?" he remarked tentatively, and with a certain boyishenthusiasm, which she had never conceived possible to his nature.
"Yes," she replied a little dryly, "she is the only young lady there."She stopped, remembering Adele's naive description of the man beforeher, and said abruptly, "You know her, then?"
"A little," replied the young man, modestly. "I see her pretty oftenwhen I am passing the upper end of the ranch. She's very well broughtup, and her manners are very refined--don't you think so?--and yet she'sjust as simple and natural as a country girl. There's a great dealin education after all, isn't there?" he went on confidentially, "andalthough"--he lowered his voice and looked cautiously around him--"Ibelieve that some of us here don't fancy her mother much, there's nodoubt that Mrs. Randolph knows how to bring up her children. Some peoplethink that kind of education is all artificial, and don't believe in it,but I do!"
With the consciousness that she was running away from these people andthe shameful disclosure she had heard last night--with the recollectionof Adele's scandalous interpretation of her most innocent actions andher sudden and complete revulsion against all that she had previouslyadmired in that household, to hear this man who had seemed to her aliving protest against their ideas and principles, now expressing themand holding them up for emulation, almost took her breath away.
"I suppose that means you intend to fix Major Randolph's well for him?"she said dryly.
"Yes," he returned without noticing her manner; "and I think I can findthat water again. I've been studying it up all night, and do you knowwhat I'm going to do? I am going to make the earthquake that lost ithelp me to find it again." He paused, and looked at her with a smileand a return of his former enthusiasm. "Do you remember the crack in theadobe field that stopped you yesterday?"
"Yes," said the girl, with a slight shiver.
"I told you then that the same crack was a split in the rock outcropfurther up the plain, and was deeper. I am satisfied now, from what Ihave seen, that it is really a rupture of the whole strata all the waydown. That's the one weak point that the imprisoned water is sure tofind, and that's where the borer will tap it--in the new well that theearthquake itself has sunk."
It seemed to her now that she understood his explanation perfectly, andshe wondered the more that he had been so mistaken in his estimate ofAdele. She turned away a little impatiently and looked anxiously towardsthe point where Dawson had disappeared. Bent followed her eyes.
"He'll be here in a moment, Miss Mallory. He has to drive slowly throughthe grain, but I hear the wheels." He stopped, and his voice took up itsprevious note of boyish hesitation. "By the way--I'll--I'll be going upto the Rancho this afternoon to see the major. Have you any message forMrs. Randolph--or for--for Miss Adele?"
"No"--said Rose, hesitatingly, "and--and"--
"I see," interrupted Bent, carelessly. "You don't want anything saidabout your coming here. I won't."
It struck her that he seemed to have no ulterior meaning in thesuggestion. But before she could make any reply, Dawson reappeared,driving a handsome mare
harnessed to a light, spider-like vehicle. Hehad also assumed, evidently in great haste, a black frock coat buttonedover his waistcoatless and cravatless shirt, and a tall black hat thatalready seemed to be cracking in the sunlight. He drove up, at onceassisted her to the narrow perch beside him, and with a nod to Bentdrove off. His breathless expedition relieved the leave-taking of theseyoung people of any ceremony.
"I suppose," said Mr. Dawson, giving a half glance over his shoulder asthey struck into the dusty highway,--"I suppose you don't care to seeanybody before