diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-0.txt | 3141 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-0.zip | bin | 58747 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h.zip | bin | 1927979 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/67881-h.htm | 5375 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 672673 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/coversmall.jpg | bin | 252284 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/front.jpg | bin | 91897 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/logo.jpg | bin | 15201 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p045.jpg | bin | 92232 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p051.jpg | bin | 95084 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p065.jpg | bin | 100586 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p085.jpg | bin | 78367 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p097.jpg | bin | 82555 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p109.jpg | bin | 99781 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p161.jpg | bin | 108470 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p166.jpg | bin | 70164 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p171.jpg | bin | 98296 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p177.jpg | bin | 92754 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p185.jpg | bin | 97697 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67881-h/images/p197.jpg | bin | 93053 -> 0 bytes |
23 files changed, 17 insertions, 8516 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ab52e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67881 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67881) diff --git a/old/67881-0.txt b/old/67881-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 71f6ad3..0000000 --- a/old/67881-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3141 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hilda Strafford, by Beatrice Harraden - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Hilda Strafford - A California Story - -Author: Beatrice Harraden - -Illustrator: Eric Pape - -Release Date: April 20, 2022 [eBook #67881] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Carlos Colon, David E. Brown, the University of California, - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images - made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HILDA STRAFFORD *** - - -[Illustration] - - - - - Hilda Strafford - - _A California Story_ - - By - Beatrice Harraden - - Author of “Ships that Pass in the Night” - “In Varying Moods” - - With Illustrations by Eric Pape - - [Illustration] - - New York - Dodd Mead and Company - 1897 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1896 - BY BEATRICE HARRADEN - - University Press - JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. - - - - -Contents - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. WOULD IT SMILE TO HER 13 - - II. HILDA COMES 32 - - III. GROWING REGRETS 51 - - IV. THE STORM 70 - - V. DOWN BY THE RIVER 88 - - VI. ATTRACTION AND REPULSION 119 - - VII. THE GREAT MIRACLE 138 - - VIII. ROBERT TAKES HEART 145 - - IX. SCHUMANN’S NACHTSTÜCK 162 - - X. A STRICKEN MAN 176 - - XI. PASSION AND LOYALTY 196 - - XII. FAREWELL TO CALIFORNIA 217 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PORTRAIT _Frontispiece_ - - “Ben lit the lantern, and stationed himself outside with it” _page_ 41 - - “And he heard Robert asking questions” 47 - - “She sat on the little verandah” 61 - - “He lifted a piece of iron piping” 81 - - “There was no talk between them” 93 - - “Hilda could not leave the spot” 105 - - “Hilda at the window” 157 - - “Hilda’s self-control broke down completely” 167 - - “Robert passed noiselessly out of the house” 173 - - “‘Ben,’ he murmured, ‘we must--’ He fainted away” 181 - - “She bent over her husband and looked at his pale face” 193 - - - - -HILDA STRAFFORD - - - - -Hilda Strafford - - - - -CHAPTER I - -WOULD IT SMILE TO HER? - - -The day had come at last. - -Robert Strafford glanced around at the isolated spot which he had -chosen for his ranch, and was seized with more terrible misgivings than -had ever before overwhelmed him in moments of doubt. - -Scores of times he had tried to put himself in her place, and to look -at the country with her eyes. Would it, could it, smile to her? He -had put off her coming until the early spring, so that she might see -this new strange land at its best, when the rains had begun to fall, -and the grass was springing up, and plain and slope were donning a -faint green garment toning each day to a richer hue, when tiny ferns -were thrusting out their heads from the dry ground, and here and there -a wild-flower arose, welcome herald of the bounty which Nature would -soon be dispensing with generous hand, but after a long delay. Such -a long delay, indeed, that a new-comer to Southern California might -well think that Nature, so liberal in her gifts to other lands, had -shown only scant favor to this child of hers, clothing her in dusty and -unattractive attire, and refusing her many of the most usual graces. -But when the long months of summer heat are over, she begins to work -her miracle, and those who have eyes to see and hearts to understand, -will learn how dearly she loves this land of sunshine, and how, in her -own good time, she showers her jewels upon it. - -So just now, when this wonderful change was stealing over the country, -Robert Strafford looked eagerly for the arrival of Hilda Lester, who -had been engaged to him for more than three years, and who was at -length able to break away from her home-ties and marry him; when there -was a mystic glamour in the air, and a most caressing softness; when -the lemon-trees were full of promise, and some of them full of plenty; -when the little ranch, so carefully worked and so faithfully nursed, -seemed at its very best, and well repaid Robert Strafford for his -untiring labor. - -He sat on the bench in front of his barn, smoking his pipe and -glancing with pride at his little estate on the slope of the hill. -He loved it so much, that he had learnt to think it even beautiful, -and it was only now and then that he had any serious misgivings about -the impression it would produce on any one unaccustomed to the South -Californian scenery. But now he was seized with overwhelming doubt, and -he took his pipe from his mouth, and covered his tired-looking face -with his hands. Nellie, the white pointer, stirred uneasily, and then -got up and rubbed herself against him. - -“Dear old girl,” he said, caressing her. “You have such a faithful -heart. I’m all right, old girl; I’m only down in the dumps a little.” - -Suddenly the sound of horse’s hoofs was heard, and Nellie, barking -loudly, darted down the hill, and then returned in triumph, now and -again making jumps of greeting to Ben Overleigh’s pretty little -chestnut mare Fanny. - -Ben Overleigh swung off his horse, hitched her to the post, and turned -quietly to his friend, who had not risen from the bench, but sat in the -same listless position as before. - -“Well, now,” said Ben Overleigh, sinking down beside him, “and I tell -you, Bob, you’ve made a deucèd pretty little garden for her. That deaf -old woman with the ear-trumpet has not grown finer violets than those -yonder; and as for your roses, you could not find any better in Santa -Barbara itself. I can’t say much for the grass-plot at present. It -reminds me rather of a man’s bald head. But the creepers are just first -rate, especially the ones I planted. And there isn’t a bonnier little -ranch than yours in the whole neighbourhood. If my lemons were coming -on as well as yours, nothing on earth should prevent me from stepping -over to the dear old country for a few weeks.” - -Robert Strafford looked up and smiled. - -“The trees certainly are doing splendidly,” he said, with some pride. -“I know I’ve given them the best part of my strength and time these -last three years. There ought to be some return for that, oughtn’t -there, Ben?” - -Ben made no answer, but puffed at his pipe, and Robert Strafford -continued: - -“You see, Hilda and I had been engaged for some time, and things did -not go well with me in the old country,--I couldn’t make my niche for -myself like other fellows seem able to do,--and then there came that -wretched illness of mine, which crippled all my best abilities for the -time. So when at last I set to work again, I felt I must leave no stone -unturned to grasp some kind of a success: here was a new life and a new -material, and I vowed I would contrive something out of it for Hilda -and myself.” - -He paused a moment, and came closer to Ben Overleigh. - -“But I don’t know how I ever dared hope that she would come out here,” -he said, half-dreamily. “I’ve longed for it and dreaded it, and longed -for it and dreaded it. If I were to have a message now to say she -had thrown it up, I don’t suppose I should ever want to smile again. -But that is not the worst thing that would happen to one. I dread -something far more--her disappointment, her scorn; for, when all is -done and said, it is a wretched land, barren and bereft, and you know -yourself how many of the women suffer here. They nearly all hate it. -Something dies down in them. You have only got to look at them to know. -They have lost the power of caring. I’ve seen it over and over again, -and then I have cursed my lemon-trees. And I tell you, Ben, I feel -so played out by work and doubt, and so over-shadowed, that if Hilda -hates the whole thing, it will just be the death of me. It will kill me -outright.” - -Ben Overleigh got up and shook himself, and then relieved his feelings -in a succession of ranch-life expletives, given forth with calm -deliberation and in a particularly musical voice, which was one of -Ben’s most charming characteristics. He had many others too: his strong -manly presence, his innate chivalry to every one and everything, and -his quiet loyalty, made him an attractive personality in the valley; -and his most original and courteous manner of swearing would have -propitiated the very sternest of tract-distributors. He was a good -friend, too, and had long ago attached himself to Robert Strafford, and -looked after him--mothering him up in his own manly tender fashion; and -now he glanced at the young fellow who was going to bring his bride -home on the morrow, and he wondered what words of encouragement he -could speak, so that his comrade might take heart and throw off this -overwhelming depression. - -“That’s enough of this nonsense,” he said cheerily, as he stood and -faced his friend. “Come and show me what you’ve done to make the -house look pretty. And see here, old man, I’ve brought two or three -odd things along with me. I saw them in town the other day, and -thought they might please her ladyship when she arrives. I stake my -reputation particularly on this lamp-shade. And here’s a table-cloth -from the Chinese shop, and here’s a vase for flowers, and here’s a -toasting-fork!” - -They had gone into the house, and Ben Overleigh had laid his treasures -one by one on the table. He looked around, and realised for the first -time that Robert Strafford was offering but a desolate home to his -bride. Outside at least there were flowers and creepers, and ranges -of splendid mountains, and beautiful soft lights and shades changing -constantly, and fragrances in the air born of spring; but inside -this dreary little house, there was nothing to cast a glamour of -cheerfulness. Nothing. For the moment Ben’s heart sank, but when he -glanced at his friend, he forced himself to smile approvingly. - -“You’ve bought a capital little coal-oil stove, Bob,” he said. “That -is the best kind, undoubtedly. I’m going to have scores of cosy meals -off that, I can tell you. I think you could have done with two or three -more saucepans, old man. But that is as nice a little stove as you’ll -see anywhere. A rocking-chair! Good. And a cushion too, by Jove! And a -book-shelf, with six brand-new books on it, including George Meredith’s -last novel and Ibsen’s new play.” - -“Hilda is fond of reading,” said Robert Strafford, gaining courage from -his friend’s approval. - -“And some curtains,” continued Ben. “And a deucèd pretty pattern too.” - -“I chose them myself,” said the other, smiling proudly,--“and, what’s -more, I stitched them myself!” - -So they went on, Ben giving comfort and Bob taking it; and then they -made a few alterations in the arrangement of the furniture, and they -tried the effect of the table-cloth and the lamp-shade, and Bob put a -few flowers in the vase, and stood at the door to see how everything -looked. - -“Will it smile to her, will it smile to her, I wonder?” he said, -anxiously. - -“Of course it will,” said Ben, also stepping back to see the whole -effect. - -“That lamp-shade and that table-cloth and that vase and that -toasting-fork settle the whole matter, in my mind!” - -“If there were only some nice neighbours,” said Robert Strafford. “But -there isn’t a soul within six miles.” - -“You are surely forgetting the deaf lady with the ear-trumpet,” -remarked Ben, mischievously. - -“Don’t be a fool, Ben,” said Robert Strafford, shortly. - -“She is not exactly a stimulating companion,” continued Ben, -composedly, “but she is better than no one at all. And then there’s -myself. I also am better than no one at all. I don’t think you do so -badly after all, in spite of your grumblings. Then eight miles off -live Lauderdale and Holles and Graham. Since Jesse Holles returned from -his travels, they are as merry a little company as you would wish to -see anywhere.” - -“Hilda is so fond of music,” said Robert Strafford, sadly, “and I have -no piano for her as yet.” - -“That is soon remedied,” answered Ben. “But why didn’t you tell me -these things before? The ear-trumpet lady has a piano, and I daresay -with a little coaxing she would lend it to you. I’m rather clever at -coaxing through a trumpet; moreover, she rather likes me. I have such -a gentle voice, you know, and I believe my moustache is the exact -reproduction of one owned by her dead nephew! Her dead nephew certainly -must have had an uncommonly fine moustache! Well, about the piano. -I’ll see what I can do; and meanwhile, for pity’s sake, cheer up.” - -He put his hand kindly on his friend’s shoulders. - -“Yes, Bob, I mean what I say,” he continued; “for pity’s sake, cheer -up, and don’t be receiving her ladyship with the countenance of a -boiled ghost. That will depress her far more than anything in poor old -California. Be your old bright self again, and throw off all these -misgivings. You’ve just worked yourself out, and you ought to have -taken a month’s holiday down the coast. You would have come back as -strong as a jack-rabbit and as chirpy as a little horned toad.” - -“Oh, I shall be all right,” said Robert Strafford; “and you’re such a -brick, Ben. You’ve always been good to me. I’ve been such a sullen cur -lately. But for all that--” - -“But for all that, you’re not a bad fellow at your best,” said Ben, -smiling; “and now come back with me. I can’t have you mooning here by -yourself to-night. Come back with me, and I’ll cook you a splendid -piece of steak, and I’ll send you off in excellent form to meet and -marry her ladyship to-morrow morning. Then whilst you are off on that -errand, I’ll turn in here and make the place as trim as a ship’s cabin, -and serve up a nice little dinner fit for a king and queen. Come on, -old man. I half think there may be rain to-night.” - -“I must just water the horses,” said Robert Strafford, “and then I’m -ready for you.” - -The two friends sauntered down to the stables, the pointer Nellie -following close upon their heels. - -It was the hour of sunset, that hour when the barren scenery can hold -its own for beauty with the loveliest land on earth. The lights changed -and deepened, and faded away and gave place to other colours, until at -last that tender rosy tint so dear to those who watch the Californian -sky, jewelled the mountains and the stones, holding everything, indeed, -in a passing splendour. - -“Her ladyship won’t see anything like that in England,” said Ben; and -he stooped down and picked some wild-flowers which were growing over -the ranch: Mexican primroses and yellow violets. - -“The ear-trumpet lady says this is going to be a splendid year for the -wild-flowers,” he added, “so her ladyship will see California at its -best. But I believe we are in for some rain. I rather wish it would -keep off until she has happily settled down in her new home.” - -“It won’t rain yet,” said Robert Strafford, leading out one of the -horses to the water-trough. Then Ben fetched the other one out; but he -broke loose and hurried up on the hill, and Ben followed after him, -swearing in his usual patent manner in a gentle and musical monotone, -as though he were reciting prayers kneeling by his mother’s side. At -last the horse was caught, and the chickens were fed, and Nellie was -chained up to keep guard over the Californian estate. Robert mounted -his little mare Jinny and said some words of comfort and apology to the -pointer. - -“Poor old Nellie, woman,” he said; “I hate to leave you by yourself. -But you must keep the house and ranch safe for your mistress. And I’ve -given you an extra supply of bones. And we’ll go hunting soon, old -girl, I promise you.” - -Nellie went the full length of her chain, and watched the two men -canter off. - -When she could no longer watch, she listened, every nerve intent; -and when at last the sounds of the horses’ hoofs had died away in -the distance, she heaved a deep sigh, and after the manner of all -philosophers, resigned herself to an extra supply of bones. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -HILDA COMES - - -The next morning after Robert Strafford had gone off to town to meet -Hilda, Ben Overleigh went to his friend’s house and put everything -in order, and after having paid special attention to the arrangement -of his moustache, he set out to visit Miss Dewsbury, the deaf lady, -intending, if possible, to coax her piano out of her. He was a great -favourite of hers, and he was indeed the only person who was not -thoroughly frightened of her. She was quite seventy years of age, but -she had unending strength and vitality, and worked like a navvy on -her ranch, only employing a man when she absolutely must. And when -she did employ any one, she mounted to the top of the house, and kept -watch over him with an opera-glass, so that she might be quite sure -she was having the advantage of every moment of his time. The boys in -the neighbourhood often refused to work for her; for, as Jesse Holles -said, it was bad enough to be watched through an opera-glass, but to -have to put up with all her scoldings, and not be able to say a word of -defence which could reach her, except through a trumpet--no, by Jove, -that wasn’t the job for him! Also there were other complaints against -her: she never gave any one a decent meal, and she never dreamed of -offering anything else but skimmed milk which people did not seem able -to swallow. They swallowed the opera-glass and the trumpet and the -scoldings and the tough beef, but when it came to the skimmed milk, -they felt that they had already endured enough. So the best people in -the valley would not work for Miss Dewsbury--as least, not willingly; -and it had sometimes happened that Ben Overleigh had used his powers of -persuasion to induce some of the young fellows to give her a few days’ -help when she was in special need of it; and on more than one occasion, -when he could not make any one else go to her, he had himself offered -her his services. Thus she owed him some kindness; and moreover his -courtliness and his gentle voice were pleasing to her. He was the only -person, so she said, who did not shout down the trumpet. And yet she -could hear every word he uttered. - -This morning when he arrived at her house, she was vainly trying to -hear what the butcher said, and the butcher was vainly trying to make -himself understood. She was in a state of feverish excitement, and the -butcher looked in the last stage of nervous exhaustion. - -“You’ve just come in time to save my life,” he said to Ben. “For the -love of heaven, tell her through the trumpet, that beef has gone up two -cents a pound, that she can’t have her salted tongue till next week, -and that she has given me seven cents too little.” - -Then Ben of the magic voice spoke these mystic words through the -trumpet, and the butcher went off comforted, and Miss Dewsbury smiled -at her favourite; and when he told her that he had come to ask a -special favour of her, she was so gracious that Ben felt he would have -no difficulty in carrying out his project. But when she understood -what he wanted, things did not go so easily. To be sure, she did not -use the piano, she said, but then that was no reason why any one else -should use it for her. Ben stood waiting patiently until she should -have exhausted all her eloquence, and then he stooped down, and quietly -picked one or two suckers off a lemon-tree, and took his pruning-knife -from his pocket, and snipped off a faded branch. After this, with quiet -deliberation, he twirled his great moustaches. That settled the matter. - -“You may have the piano,” she said, “but you must fetch it yourself.” - -Ben did not think it necessary to add that he had already arranged for -it to be fetched at once, and he lingered a little while with her, -listening to her complaint about the men she employed and about their -laziness, which she observed through the opera-glass. Ben was just -going to suggest that perhaps the opera-glass made the men lazy, when -he remembered that he must be circumspect, and so he contrived some -beautiful speech about the immorality of laziness; he even asked for a -glass of skimmed milk, and off he cantered, raising his hat and bowing -chivalrously to the old lady rancher. Before very long, her piano stood -in Robert Strafford’s little house, and Ben spent a long time in -cleaning and dusting it. - -After he had finished this task, he became very restless, and finally -went down to the workshop and made a rough letter-box, which he fixed -on to a post and placed at the corner of the road leading up to his -friend’s ranch. Two hours were left. He did a little gardening and -watered the tiny grass-plot. He looked at the sky. Blue-black clouds -were hovering over the mountains, obscuring some and trying to envelop -others. - -“We are in for a storm,” he said. “It is making straight for this part -from Grevilles Mountain. But I hope it won’t come to-night. It will be -a poor welcome to Bob’s wife, though it’s about time now for the land -to have a thorough good drenching.” - -He looked at the pretty valley with its belt of trees, seen at its best -from the hill where Robert’s house was built. At all times of the year, -there was that green stretch yonder of clustering trees, nestling near -the foothills, which in their turn seemed to nestle up to the rugged -mountains. - -“Yes,” he said, as he turned away, “those trees make one home-sick -for a wooded country. These wonderful ranges of mountains and these -hills are all very well in their way, and one learns to love them -tremendously, but one longs for the trees. And yet when Jesse Holles -went north and came back again, he said he was glad to see the barren -mountains once more. I wonder what the girl will think of it all, -and how she will take to the life. The women suffer miseries of -home-sickness.” - -He stood thinking a while, and there was an expression of great sadness -on his face. - -“My own little sweetheart would have pined out here,” he said softly; -“I can bear the loneliness, but I could not have borne hers. Poor old -Bob,” he said regretfully, “I almost wish he had not sent for her: it -is such a risk in this land. I don’t wonder he is anxious.” - -He glanced again at the threatening clouds, and went back to the house, -took off his coat, turned up his sleeves, and began the preparations -for the evening meal. He laid the cloth, changed the flowers several -times before they smiled to his satisfaction, and polished the knives -and forks. He brought in some logs of wood and some sumac-roots, made a -fire, and blew it up with the bellows. - -[Illustration: “BEN LIT THE LANTERN, AND STATIONED HIMSELF OUTSIDE WITH -IT.”] - -Suddenly the frail little frame-house was shaken by a heavy gust of -wind; and when the shock had passed, every board creaked and quivered. -Nellie got up from her warm place near the fire, and stalked about -uneasily. - -“Damnation!” said Ben. “The storm is working up. If they’d only come -before it is any worse.” - -It was now seven o’clock and pitch dark. Ben lit the lantern, and -stationed himself outside with it. The time seemed endless to him, but -at last he heard the music of wheels, and in a few minutes the horse -dashed up the hill, and Robert’s voice rang out lustily: - -“Here she is, Ben!” - -“Yes, here I am,” said Robert’s wife. - -“Just in time to escape the storm,” said Ben, coming forward to greet -her, and helping her out of the buggy. “I’ve been awfully anxious about -you both. I’ll take the horse down to the barn, Bob, and then I’ll fly -up to see about the dinner. Leave everything to me.” - -So whilst Ben was unhitching the horse, Robert led his wife into the -little house, and he was transfigured with pride and pleasure when she -glanced round and said: - -“Why, how cosy you’ve made it! And how cheerful the fire looks! And -this dear dog ready to be so friendly. It looks like a real little -home--doesn’t it?” - -In that one moment all Robert’s doubts and misgivings were set at -rest, and when Ben hurried up from the barn, the husband and wife -were kneeling down and toasting themselves before the fire, the dog -nestling up near them, and he heard Robert asking questions about the -dear old country, and Hilda answering in a voice which struck on Ben’s -sensitive ear as being somewhat harsh and strident. He had only time to -glance hastily at her as, intent on serving up a dainty little dinner -as quickly as possible, he passed into the kitchen. At last he brought -it in triumphantly, hot steak cooked as only Ben knew how, and fried -potatoes and chicken salad, and the most fragrant coffee. Finally, -overcome with his exertions and his anxiety and his day’s working and -waiting, with a sigh of relief he sank back in his chair and twirled -his great moustaches. - -“You have been such a good friend to Bob,” said Hilda, smiling at him. -“I know all about it.” - -“No, no,” said Ben, with his easy grace, “I’ve only helped to get him -through the time until you came out to him. The poor wretch needed -cheering up. But he does not look much like a poor wretch now.” - -“No, indeed,” laughed Robert, “and I don’t feel like one.” - -“You’ve often been a great anxiety to me,” said Ben, turning to Hilda. -“When the mails have been delayed and your letters have not come at -their appointed minute, then I have had to suffer. And once you were -ill. During that period I was not allowed any peace of mind.” - -“In fact, you have had bad times on my account,” she said brightly. - -[Illustration: “AND HE HEARD ROBERT ASKING QUESTIONS.”] - -“Well, I could not bear to see him suffer,” Ben said, laying his arm -on Robert’s shoulder. “He is a terrible fellow at taking things to -heart. There is no doing anything at all with him.” - -“He has suffered quite unnecessarily,” Hilda answered, with that -peculiar harsh ring in her voice which again jarred on Ben’s -sensitiveness. “I am one of the strong ones of the earth.” - -And she looked it. Though tired after the long journey from England, -she had the appearance of being in excellent health. Her complexion was -dark, and her eyes were brown, but without any softness in them. She -was decidedly good-looking, almost beautiful indeed, and strikingly -graceful of form and stature. But she impressed Ben as being quite -unsympathetic, and all the time he was washing up the tea things and -tidying the little kitchen, he found himself harping on this note -alone. - -And when he had said good-bye to Robert and Hilda, and was hurrying -home on his pretty little mare Fanny, he gave vent, in his usual -musical fashion, to a vague feeling of disappointment, and kept up a -soft accompaniment of swearing to the howling of the wind. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -GROWING REGRETS - - -It was now three days since Hilda’s arrival; and the storm, which had -been threatening for so long, had not yet broken loose. Like all the -ranchers, Robert was anxious for a good deluge, but he was relieved -that there was a little delay about it, for he wanted Hilda to enjoy a -few days of outdoor life, and see all he had to show her on the ranch -and in the garden. He seemed like a different man now that she had come -out to him; and every tiny mark of appreciation which she gave, made -him lift his head higher, and encouraged him to step more firmly over -the ground. The labour, the anxiety, and the risk of his enterprise -were all forgotten in the intense pride and pleasure with which he -showed her what he had been doing to ensure success. He told her, with -quiet confidence in the ultimate truth of his words, that his lemons -could not possibly be a failure. - -“You will hear many people say that there is no money in -fruit-farming,” he said to her when he was taking her over the ranch -and pointing out to her his pet trees. “But you need not be concerned -about that. The big ranches often fail because they are too unwieldy, -and some of the small ranches fail because they are not properly looked -after, and because their owners have not enough capital to spend money -on them, and to wait patiently for a good return. But a ranch of -twenty-five acres carefully tended in every particular cannot help -being a success. Those are my best trees yonder. They are specially -fine, and I expect to net two dollars a box on them next year. I can’t -tell you how much care I have given to them, but you see for yourself -that it was well worth while.” - -Hilda tried to make some appropriate remark, but the trees did not -really arouse any interest in her: she was bitterly disappointed -with them, for, in spite of all Robert’s letters telling her that -the orchard was only in its infancy, she had expected to see great -groves of trees covered with lemons and oranges. And really until -one learns to take a delight in the quick growth, one may well feel -disappointment and perhaps contempt. Some amusing criticisms, with a -spice of derision in them, rose to her lips, but she managed to shut -them off, and followed her husband silently up the trail which led to -his reservoir, on which he set great store. - -“Yes,” he said, “this is a thoroughly satisfactory piece of work. It -cost a good deal of money and labour, but it is splendidly strong. In -this dry land, it is such an immense advantage to be able to store -water.” - -Hilda praised the reservoir, and suggested they should grow some trees -there. - -“Yes, indeed,” Robert said eagerly, “we will have trees everywhere, and -you shall choose them and settle where they are to be planted.” - -“Why didn’t you plant some shade trees at once?” she asked. “The whole -place is so terribly bare. I could not have believed that such a barren -spot existed anywhere outside a desert.” - -Robert’s face fell, and Hilda added quickly: - -“But these are grand old mountains around us, and I daresay one gets -accustomed to the bareness.” - -“Oh, yes,” he answered, “and in time one almost learns to think it -beautiful.” - -“Beautiful, no,” she replied decidedly, “but perhaps tolerable.” - -“Every day,” he said, almost pleadingly, “you will see a difference in -the scenery. If we have some more rain, as we shall do shortly, you -will see the green springing up everywhere. The most dried-up-looking -corner will suddenly become jewelled with wild-flowers. In about three -weeks’ time that little hill yonder above our ranch will be covered -with scented yellow lilies. Down in the valley you will find green -enough to satisfy the hungriest eye, and up on the mountains where you -must go on horseback, the brushwood is coming on splendidly, and all -sorts of lovely flowers and shrubs are springing up. And there you will -have a grand view of the surrounding mountains, and the Pacific. You -will even feel the sea-breeze, and at times you will hear the sound of -the waves.” - -He paused for a moment, and Hilda said brightly: - -“I shall enjoy the riding immensely. Can I begin soon?” - -“At once,” he answered proudly again. “Come and make friends with -Bessie, and see the side-saddle which I bought for you the other day. -It’s a Mexican one, and I think it is the safest for this country.” - -He had taken thought for her in every way, and she could not but notice -it and be grateful for it; and as the days went on, she grew more -conscious of the evidences of his kindness, and all the more anxious to -do her part conscientiously. She threw herself into work to which she -had been totally unaccustomed all her life, and for which she had no -liking; but because she had a strong will and a satisfaction in doing -everything well, she made astonishing progress, illustrating the truth -sometimes disputed by ungenerous critics, that a good groundwork of -culture and education helps and does not hinder one in the practical -and unpoetical things of life. - -But nevertheless she recognised that she had made a great mistake. -Looking back now she wondered why in the name of heaven she had ever -come out to this distant land, and got herself entangled in a life -which could never be congenial to her; for once there, and having seen -her surroundings and her limitations, she realised that it could never -be attractive to her. She had loved Robert as well as she could love -any one, and when his health broke down and he had to leave England, -she continued her engagement as a matter of course, and his letters -of love and longing were acceptable to her, not involving any strain -on her part, nor any pressing need of arranging definitely for the -future. So she drifted on, and when at last the question arose of -her joining him, her relations and friends used every opposition -to prevent her. It was pointed out to her that after a London life -full of many interests and possibilities and actualities, ranching in -Southern California would be simply madness. She had been accustomed -to companions, men and women of a certain amount of culture and -refinement. How would she manage, bereft of all these advantages? -The strenuous opposition with which she met, and the solid arguments -advanced against her leaving the old country, stimulated her desire -to go; and a sudden wave of loyalty and pity for that lonely rancher -who was counting on her help and companionship, confirmed her in her -intentions. She felt that if she had not been intending to keep her -promise, she ought at least to have let him know the drift of her -mind. This, and a very decided inclination for travel and adventures, -settled the matter. - -So she came. - -[Illustration: “SHE SAT ON THE LITTLE VERANDAH.”] - -And this afternoon, when she sat on the little verandah, resting after -her housework, and watching Robert cultivating the eight-acre piece -on the hill-slope, she realised that she had been mad. He paused for -a moment and waved to her, and she waved back listlessly. She looked -at the rich upturned soil, of chocolate brown, and the formal rows of -lemon-trees; at the stretch of country all around her, with scarcely -a sign of human habitation; at the great mountains, uncompromisingly -stern and barren of everything except stone and brush. She watched -the pointer Nellie going in front of the little grey team and -encouraging them to do their work well. She glanced upwards and -noticed the majestic flight of the turkey buzzards, and now she was -attracted by the noise of a hummingbird who came to visit her fragrant -honeysuckle creeper, and then sped on his way. Everything seemed so -still and lifeless. There were no familiar noises such as greet one -in the tiniest village in the old country. There was no pulsation -nor throb of life. There was nothing to stimulate,--nothing in the -circumstances of everyday life, nor in the scenery. With the exception -of her husband, there was no one with whom to speak all through the -living hours of the day. - -And this was what she had chosen of her own free will. She had -deliberately thrown up a life full of interests and distractions, and -had been mad enough to exchange it for this. - -She was fond of music, and would hear none. - -She was fond of theatres, and she had cut herself off from them. - -As for books--well, she could get them here; but meanwhile Meredith’s -“Lord Ormont and his Aminta” lay unopened by her side, and the current -number of the “Century” was thrown down and carelessly crumpled. But as -she stooped to pick it up, she was ashamed to think how ungrateful she -was for all Robert’s kindness. He had filled a little book-shelf with -new books for her; he had subscribed for several of the best magazines; -he had sent for a tuner from town to tune the ear-trumpet lady’s -piano. She scarcely cared to read, and she had not touched the piano. -A feeling of tenderness and gratitude came over her, and she sprang -up, and trudged over the fields to speak a few words with her husband. -His face brightened when he saw her, and he gave her a joyous welcome. -Nellie ran to greet her, and the horses looked round inquiringly. For -the moment she felt really proud and happy. - -“You must let me help you all I can,” she said gently. “I am so strong, -and able to do so much. You look dreadfully tired.” - -“Oh, that’s nothing,” he said, smiling, and wiping his forehead. -“Everything seems different since you came.” - -“If you teach me, I can do the pruning,” she said; “I believe I could -cultivate too.” - -“I believe you could,” he answered, “and perhaps you think too that I -am going to allow you to dig the basins for the irrigating during the -summer. But you shall do the pruning, and next year, you know, there -will be the curing of the lemons.” - -“_Next year_,” she repeated slowly, and her heart sank once more. - -“I’ve half decided to plant some walnuts,” he said. “They don’t bear -for about nine years, but then they are very profitable.” - -“_Nine years_,” she echoed, and a throb of pain passed through her. - -But at that moment Ben Overleigh came cantering over the ranch, with a -rifle in front of him and some quail which he had just shot. - -“This is my first offering of quail,” he said, turning to Hilda, “and -I’ve shot them with this pretty little rifle which Jesse Holles is -sending as a present to you. He is too shy to give it to you himself. -Though you won’t think him shy when you see him.” - -“And when shall I see him?” asked Hilda, who had brightened up -considerably, and looked beautiful. - -“This evening,” answered Ben, glancing at her admiringly. “The fact is, -I came to tell you that in about an hour’s time you may expect seven -callers. Lauderdale and Graham and Holles and some of the other boys -intend to pay you their respects this evening. They fear lest they -may be prevented later on by the storm which I’ve prophesied for the -last fortnight, and which I shall continue to prophesy with unfailing -persistence until it comes. You will find Holles most amusing if he is -in good form. But he has been quite ill for the last three weeks, and -is only just himself again. He made nine wills and wrote six farewell -letters in twenty-one days, and he said they helped him to recover. -He looked in at my place this morning and asked for a tie, and Graham -pleaded for a collar, and when I heard why they wanted these articles -of luxury, I thought I had better come a little earlier and warn -you, as seven visitors are rather a large bunch of grapes, even in -California.” - -“Then we will go in and get ready for them,” Hilda said, delighted at -the prospect of company. “How nice of Mr. Holles to send the rifle! May -I fire a shot now, Mr. Overleigh? I should so much like to try.” - -He showed her how to use the rifle, loaded it for her, and nodded in -approval to Robert when she took a steady aim at a mark which they had -placed for her, and hit it. - -“She’ll do,” said Ben, cheerily; “we can send her out to shoot the deer -in the mountains, Bob. Perhaps she will have better luck than we do.” - -“Perhaps,” laughed Robert, as he turned the horses homeward. “Be sure -and ask Holles, Hilda, what is the greatest number of deer he has ever -shot!” - -Hilda promised not to forget, and hurried into the house to make her -preparations for the guests. - -“It will rain to-night,” Ben said; “it can’t help itself any longer. -Just look yonder.” - -“Yes, I believe you are right at last,” answered Robert, unhitching the -horses from the cultivator. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE STORM - - -The seven callers came as threatened, and Hilda began to think that -perhaps there was some kind of companionship possible in the wilds -of Southern California. She was delighted with these young English -fellows, and sat in the midst of them, laughing at their fun, listening -to their stories, and answering their eager questions about the dear -old country for which they all longed. - -“How does the Strand look?” asked Graham. - -“Does Tottenham Court Road seem the same as ever?” asked Lauderdale. - -“Has Park Lane changed at all?” asked Holles, putting on airs of great -superiority. - -In spite of his recent illness, he was in capital spirits, and seemed -to be much liked by his companions. “Yes, I’ve been quite ill,” he -said, in answer to Hilda’s inquiries; “but Lauderdale nursed me -beautifully, and made me drink about a dozen bottles of Elliman’s -embrocation, and then I got well enough to write several parting -letters to my friends in England, and to make my will. And that’s a -very puzzling thing to do satisfactorily when you have many valuable -things to leave. I left my pipe first to Lauderdale, then to Graham, -then to Bob, and then to Ben Overleigh, and finally I kept it for -myself!” - -“You ought to have kept your rifle for yourself,” Hilda said -graciously, “though I am glad you did not. I am delighted to have it -from you, and hope to do it justice.” - -“A rifle is a very handy thing to have in this country,” he answered. -“One may want it at any moment for a coyote, or a jack-rabbit, or a -Mexican.” - -“Or perhaps a deer!” suggested Hilda, slyly. - -They all laughed at that, and Jesse Holles as heartily as any one, -and then Ben said he thought they ought to be starting home. It was -evident that none of them wanted to go, and Holles, being particularly -fond of music, was looking at the piano; but Ben seemed anxious about -the weather, and insisted on their leaving at once with him. They -called him the High Binder, explaining to Hilda the exact meaning of a -High Binder, and his mysterious and subtle influence over his Chinese -compatriots, whom he ruled with an iron rod. - -“Just see how we all quail before him,” said Holles, who had been -talking incessantly the whole evening; “and no doubt you’ve observed -how speechless we are in his presence. He has only to wag his pig-tail -and we go flat on our faces at once.” - -“Don’t be such a confounded ass,” said Ben, laughing. “Come along, -boys.” - -“All right, man alive,” said Holles, “but at least let me finish this -piece of cake first. We don’t get cake like this at your place, Ben. Do -you know, Mrs. Strafford, when we want to kill coyotes, we get Ben to -make us some of his best sponge-rusks. That does the trick at once!” - -“Why don’t you give them to the deer also?” suggested Hilda, -mischievously. There was a shout of laughter at this, and Robert lit -the lantern, and opened the door. - -“It’s raining, boys,” he said; “and what’s more, it is coming on -harder.” - -“Hurrah for California!” sang out Graham; “we shall all make our -fortunes.” - -“Yes,” said Robert Strafford, “we shall all be saved if the country -gets a thorough good drenching. But you will be pretty well sprinkled -by the time you reach home.” - -“Never mind,” replied Holles, cheerily. “I’m the only delicate one, you -know, and the others won’t take much harm, being of coarser fibre. And -I have nothing on to spoil except the High Binder’s tie, which I will -put in my pocket. So good-night, Mrs. Strafford, and three cheers for -yourself and Bob and dear old England.” - -The High Binder and the seven other callers gave three ringing cheers -and cantered off to their homes. Long before they reached their -destinations, the storm broke forth with unbridled fury. The rain -poured down in torrents, gaining in force and rage every moment. -The wind suddenly rose, and all but swept away the riders and their -horses, and shook to its very foundation the frail little frame-house -where Robert and Hilda were watching by the log-fire, listening to the -cracking and creaking and groaning of the boards. The wind rose higher -and higher. It seemed as though the little house must assuredly be -caught up and hurled headlong. Now and then Nellie got up and howled, -and Hilda started nervously. - -“It’s all right,” Robert said reassuringly. “The wind will soon drop, -and as for the rain, we have wanted it badly. We should all have been -ruined this year, if the wet season had not set in. It’s all right, -Nell. Lie down, old girl.” - -But the wind did not drop. Hour after hour it raged and threatened, and -together with the tremendous downpouring of the rain, and the rushing -of the water in streams over the ground, made a deafening tumult. - -“I wish we had kept those boys,” Robert said once or twice. “It is not -fit for any one to be out on such a night. When these storms come,” -he added, “I always feel so thankful that Ben urged me to buy land on -the hill-slopes rather than in the valley. Three years ago there was -fearful damage done in the valley. One of the ranchers had eight acres -of olives completely ruined by the floods from the river. You must see -the river to-morrow. You saw it yesterday, didn’t you? Well, you will -not recognise it after a day or two if the rain continues. And from the -verandah you will hear it roaring like the ocean.” - -Later on he said: - -“I rather wish I hadn’t filled up my reservoir so full with -flume-water. It never struck me to make allowances for the rain coming, -idiot that I am. But there is a good deal of seepage going on, and I -thought I might as well fill it up to just below the overflow.” - -“You are not anxious about it?” she asked kindly. - -“No, no,” he said, cheerfully; “but I shall go out early to-morrow -morning, and raise the flood-gate, just to be well on the safe side. -One can’t be too careful about reservoirs. They are the very devil if -the dam bursts. But mine is as solid as a fortress. I’d stake my life -on that. I worked like ten navvies over that earth dam. I used to feel -rather like that man in Victor Hugo’s ‘Toilers of the Sea.’ Do you -remember how he slaved over his self-imposed task?” - -“Poor old Bob,” she said, bending over him, and speaking in a gentler -voice than was her wont, “and you are not in the least fit for such -hard work. I believe you have worn yourself out; and all for me, and I, -if you only knew, so little worthy of it.” - -“I wanted our little ranch to be just as compact as possible,” he said, -“so that I might offer to you the best I could in this distant land. -As for myself, I am perfectly well, now you’ve come out to me: only -I am always wishing that I could have made a home for you in the old -country. I never forget it whatever I am doing.” - -He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Hilda was silent, and when -at last she spoke, it was about her seven callers, and the next moment -there was a terrible blast of wind, and the door was blown in and -hurled with a crash to the ground. After that, their whole attention -was taken up in trying to keep out the rain, and in securing the -windows, until at last, worn out with their long watch, they slept. - -Hilda dreamed of England, and of everything she had left there. She -dreamed that she heard Robert saying: “_And next year there will be the -lemons to be cured._” “_Next year_,” she answered, and her heart sank. - -Robert dreamed of the eight acres of olives ruined by the floods three -years ago, and of his own ranch situated so safely on the hill-slope, -and of his reservoir. He dreamed he was still working at it, still -strengthening the earth dam, and still scraping out the cañon so as to -have room for about five hundred thousand gallons of water. - -[Illustration: “HE LIFTED A PIECE OF IRON PIPING.”] - -“_It’s nearly done_,” he said; “_about three weeks more, and then -I’m through with it_.” - -At six o’clock he woke up with a start, and found the storm unabated -in strength and fury. Suddenly he remembered about his reservoir, and, -seized with a sudden panic, he flung out of the house, and, fighting -his way through the rain and wind, crossed the ranch, and tore up the -trail which led to the reservoir. - -For one second he stood paralysed. - -The water was just beginning to flow over the earth dam. He had come -too late, and he knew it. He lifted a piece of iron piping which lay -there at hand, and he tried to knock out the flood-gate, but the -mischief was done. In less than ten minutes, the water had cut a hole -five feet deep in the dam, and was rushing down the ranch, carving for -itself a gully which widened and deepened every second. - -In the blinding rain and wind Robert Strafford stood helpless and -watched the whole of the dam give way: he watched the water tearing -madly over the best part of his ranch: he saw numbers of his choicest -lemon-trees rooted up and borne away: he saw the labour of weeks and -months flung, as it were, in his face. And he was helpless. It was all -over in half an hour, and still he lingered there, as though rooted to -the spot,--drenched by the rain, blown by the wind, and unconscious of -everything except this bitter disappointment. But when his mind began -to work again, he thought of Hilda: how it was through him that she had -left her home and her surroundings and all her many interests, and had -come to him to this far-off country, to this loveless land, to this -starved region--yes, to this starved region, where people were longing -and pining for even a passing throb of the old life, for even a glance -at a Devonshire lane or a Surrey hill; for some old familiar scene of -beauty or some former sensation of mental or artistic satisfaction; -for something--no matter what--but just something from the old country -which would feel like the touch of a loved hand on a bowed head. He -was holding out his arms, and his heart and whole being were leaping -towards the blessèd land which had nurtured him: even as tiny children -cry out for their mother, and can be comforted and satisfied by her -alone. Ah, his thoughts of, and his desires for his old home, had -broken down the barrier of control, and were tearing wildly onwards -like that raging torrent yonder. And the more he desired the dear -old country and thought of it, all the more bitterly did he reproach -himself for taking Hilda away from it, for urging her to come and cut -herself off from the things most worth having in life--_and for what_? -To share his exile, and his loneliness, and his failure. That was all -he had to offer her, and he might have known it from the beginning, and -if he could not save himself, at least he might have spared her. - -At last he turned away suddenly, and, battling with the storm, made his -way home. Hilda ran out to meet him. - -“Robert,” she said, seeing his pale face, “I’ve been so anxious--what -has happened?--what is the matter?” - -“Do you hear that noise?” he said excitedly; “do you hear the roar of -that torrent? It is our reservoir let loose over our ranch. How do you -like having married a man who has failed in everything?” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -DOWN BY THE RIVER - - -All through that most miserable day Hilda gave him the best of her -sympathy and kindness; but even her best was poor of quality and scant -of quantity, and it did not avail to rouse him from his despair. She -was too new to Californian life to understand the whole meaning of the -morning’s misfortune, and apart from this, her power of comforting -lacked the glow and warmth of passionate attachment. Still, she gave to -her uttermost farthing, but nothing she could do or say had the effect -of helping him. He crouched by the fire, a broken man seemingly, now -and again piling on the sumac-roots, and sometimes glancing at her as -she passed to and fro busy with the affairs of their little household. -She served the mid-day meal and urged him to break his fast, but he -shook his head, and drew nearer to the fire. At about three o’clock, -there was a lull in the storm, and the rain ceased. - -Hilda, who was feeling utterly wretched and perplexed, went out to -the verandah and listened to the roar of the river, and saw a silver -streak in the valley which two days before had been perfectly dry. -She had laughed when she was told that the sandy waste yonder was the -great river. Now, looking at it, she was seized with a strong desire -to go down and stand near it, and she was just debating in her mind -whether she could leave Robert, and whether she could get through the -day without some kind of distraction,--no matter what, but something -to brace her up a little,--when she saw a figure coming up the hill, -and at once recognised Ben Overleigh. A strong feeling of relief and -hope took possession of her. Ben would stay with Robert whilst she went -out and saw what there was to be seen, and then she would come back -refreshed in mind and body. He would know how to comfort Robert, and -as for herself, she was quite conscious that she brightened up in his -presence, and felt less hopeless too about this lonely ranch life when -she remembered that he was a neighbor and their friend. - -“Well,” he said, greeting her, “and so you’ve seen a typical -Californian rain-storm. I tell you, you are lucky to be on the hill. -I shouldn’t wonder if there was a great deal of damage done in the -valley. And the storm is not over yet. This is only a lull, but I -thought I would just come over to see how things have been going with -you. Where is Bob?” - -“Bob is inside, crouching over the fire,” she said. - -“He should take you down to see the river,” Ben said. “It is a -tremendous sight.” - -“I half thought of going by myself,” she said gloomily, “if only for -the sake of a little distraction. Bob is in trouble; we are both in -trouble. The reservoir burst this morning.” - -“Good heavens!” said Ben, “and you talk of it as though your band-box -had burst, and that was all.” - -She darted an indignant glance at him as he opened the door hastily -and went into the house. He laid his hands heavily on Bob’s shoulders -and said: “Cheer up, old man. I’ve come to smoke a pipe with you.” - -“Ben, old fellow,” Robert Strafford said, looking up, and feeling at -once the comfort of his presence. - -There was no talk between them: they sat together by the fireside, -whilst Hilda lingered outside on the verandah. - -At last Robert spoke. - -“My best trees are gone,” he said half-dreamily; “the best part of my -ranch is ruined.” - -“We’ll redeem it,” Ben answered, “you and I together.” - -Robert shook his head. - -[Illustration: “THERE WAS NO TALK BETWEEN THEM.”] - -“There’s no redeeming it,” he said quietly; “I’ve made another -failure of my life, and dragged the girl into it this time. And I can’t -forgive myself. And she has been so good and patient all through this -wretched day. She has not come out to anything very gay, has she?” - -For the moment Ben’s thoughts turned sympathetically to Hilda, and he -regretted his hasty words. No; Bob was right: she had not come out -to anything very gay: a barren life, a worn-out worker, and a ruined -ranch,--not a particularly sumptuous marriage portion for any one. - -“I think I shall take her down to the river,” he said suddenly. “She -half wanted to go, and it is not safe for her alone.” - -Robert nodded as though in approval, and showed no further interest in -outside things. Ben saw that it was better to leave him alone, and -slipped out quietly, having asked no questions about the reservoir. But -he soon saw for himself that the finest part of Robert’s ranch was a -scene of desolation, and his heart ached for his friend. Then he came -round to the honeysuckle verandah, and saw Hilda still standing there. -She looked utterly listless and depressed. - -“May I take you down to the river?” he asked, in his own kind way. -“Bob is better alone, and the walk will do you good. Put on some thick -boots, for the mud is something awful. You don’t mind heavy walking?” - -“No, indeed,” she answered eagerly, “I shall be glad to come.” - -In a few minutes they were making their way down to the valley, -now sticking in the mud, and now going valiantly onwards without -interruption. At first Ben could not bring himself to speak of the -trouble which had befallen his friend; he felt as though Hilda did not -understand, or as though she did not care. Yet it was impossible that -she did not care. No, she was, so he argued, probably one of those -reserved characters, who keep their emotions in an iron safe, proof -against all attacks. But at last he could no longer keep silent on the -subject which was uppermost in his thoughts. - -“It is a most disastrous affair, this bursting of the reservoir,” he -said. “Bob slaved like a nigger at that earth dam. I never saw any -fellow work so hard. And there never was a doubt in our minds about it -being as firm as a rock. He has not told me a word about it yet, and I -did not like to ask. He will tell me in his own time.” - -“He had filled the reservoir too full,” Hilda said, in her grating -voice. “I can’t imagine why he did such a ridiculous thing when he -knew the rain was coming. And then there was some trouble about the -flood-gate. It would not act properly. That is how it has occurred: -at least so he told me. Day after day he put off looking after that -flood-gate, until it was too late. I am dreadfully sorry about it all, -but I cannot think why he did not take proper precautions. I would not -say that to him, of course, but it seems to me that it might have been -prevented if--” - -“If Bob had not been utterly worn out,” said Ben, brusquely. - -“Well, it is altogether most unfortunate,” she said indifferently. - -Ben glanced at her keenly, scarcely knowing how to control his -indignation at her cold criticism of his friend. He was trying to make -out what manner of woman she really was, trying to divine what kind of -heart she had, and what degree of intelligence; for she apparently did -not realise the seriousness of the disaster, and talked of it as though -it were something outside her, in the consequences of which she had no -part. - -“I scarcely think this is the moment for criticism,” he said suddenly; -“it is the moment for generous sympathy. Bob will need everything we -can give him of help and kindness.” - -“Do you suppose I don’t know that?” she asked coldly. “Do you imagine -that I am intending to make things harder for him? What do you suppose -I am?” - -“I suppose you are what you are,” Ben answered, in his quiet deliberate -way, “a new-comer to California, ignorant of our lives out here, our -struggles, our weeks and months and years of unaccustomed toil, and our -great anxieties, and our great disasters. Your ranch is practically -ruined. All those trees would have borne splendid lemons next year. Bob -has tended them with special care. Now they are swept away. The part of -your ranch which is left uninjured by the bursting of the reservoir, is -the newly planted part. About two or three months ago, I myself helped -Bob to put in the trees. Now he will have to begin all over again. And -it is just crushing.” - -He paused for a moment, and even in the midst of his exasperation at -her indifference, and in spite of his sympathy with Bob, he felt a -rush of kindly feeling towards her. There she was amongst them in -a foreign land, with none of her own people and none of her former -interests,--no, she had not come out to anything very cheerful: and at -twenty-four, and three weeks married, one has a right to expect some -satisfaction out of life. - -“But I am not a very gay companion,” he said, with sudden cheeriness. -“You have had enough sadness for one day, and here am I doing my level -best to add to it. Holles always says that if I had chosen, I could -have written an admirable Book of Lamentations.” - -“He is a most amusing boy,” Hilda said, smiling in spite of herself. - -“One day when he is in good form you must make him tell you his -adventures on a fishing expedition,” said Ben. “And some day you must -ask him about his famous quarrel with the ear-trumpet lady, your -only neighbour. He does just what he likes with us all, and we’re -ridiculously fond of him. That is his place right over there, across -the river. And now what do you think of the river? Stay, let me go -first and test the way across the meadows, and you must follow exactly -in my footsteps, and we will get up to the very bank of the torrent. -Don’t choose your own path. The ground is fearfully soft, and you may -be mired if you’re not careful. Would you rather not go?” - -“Indeed not,” she said eagerly; “I am ready for anything.” - -She had forgotten all her troubles and depression, and, buoyant with -vitality and eagerness, followed after him, calling out sometimes when -he looked back, “I’m all right, Mr. Overleigh.” - -At last they stood together by the side of the river, and were able -to see the wholesale destruction which the storm had wrought. Three -days ago there had been no water in the river; now there was a raging -torrent, which was cutting down the banks, tearing up the trees, and -bearing them away in fierce triumph. - -First the topmost branches of a fine sycamore shuddered slightly; then -they trembled, and those who were watching them, knew that the tree was -doomed. The roots cracked and groaned, and something snapped. And the -tree fell. Perhaps there was a moment of resistance even then--but -all in vain. The torrent rushed with redoubled fury on its victim, and -whirled it away. - -[Illustration: “HILDA COULD NOT LEAVE THE SPOT.”] - -There is a sad fascination in watching such a scene as this. You feel -you must wait to see whether that tree yonder will be spared. You -do not think it possible that it too will yield to the enemy. The -others went, but they were fragile and unstable. This one surely will -have the strength to withstand all attacks. You watch, and you turn -away perhaps to see the bank a few yards farther down, cave in and -disappear; or it may be that you yourself have to step back and save -yourself from slipping down with the ground which has given way. You -hear a crash--and there is your tree fallen! You feel like holding -out your arms to help a friend. You feel the despair of knowing -that you cannot help. The torrent seizes your tree, attacks it with -overwhelming force, and sweeps it onwards, onwards. And you linger -there, remembering sadly that there is one tree less in a barren land, -where every green branch is dearly prized; one tree less in that belt -of green in the valley, so soothing and restful to the eye through all -the months of the year. - -Hilda could not leave the spot. She was so excited and interested, and -so concerned at seeing the trees rooted up, that Ben began to wonder -whether he would ever get her home again; and indeed every moment -something fresh was occurring to attract their attention. Now a window -and now a door tore past, and now a great olive-tree, and now a pig, -and now a pump. - -“We must be starting for home,” he said at last. “The storm will be -coming on again. Do you see those threatening clouds yonder? My word, -there has been a tremendous deal of damage done already, and we’ve -not finished with it yet. I hope to goodness none of those boys have -suffered. Their land lies low, and this river is cutting away the -country right and left.” - -She turned to him with sudden eagerness. - -“It’s tremendously exciting,” she said, clasping her hands over her -head, and drawing a long breath. “If you have not seen anything of the -kind before, it works you up to a terrible pitch. I don’t know exactly -what it makes one feel like: one does not think of oneself or one’s own -concerns: one just watches and wonders.” - -“Come,” he said, looking at her with fresh interest, for her eagerness -and animation were giving an added charm to her personality. “Come, -before we are caught by the rain. Robert will be anxious.” - -“Robert will be anxious,” she echoed dreamily, and at once the -brightness faded from her face. It was as though some sudden -remembrance had quenched her vitality and her interest. She followed -Ben over the meadows, and when they had gained the road safely, -she glanced at the scene which they had left, and then turned -slowly homewards. There was something in her manner which forbade -conversation, and Ben walked by her side, twirling his great -moustaches, and wondering how things would eventually work themselves -out between Robert and herself. His own feelings towards her this -afternoon were a curious mixture of resentment and attraction. He was -almost angry with himself for being attracted towards her, but he could -not help admiring her face and her strength and her whole bearing. She -stalked by his side like a young panther. She was as strong as he was, -stronger perhaps, and with more vitality in her little finger than poor -old Bob in his whole tired body. - -At last she spoke. - -“Mr. Overleigh,” she said, “you and Robert have been great friends -together for a long time now?” - -“Why, yes,” he answered brightly. “This is the land of friendships, you -know.” - -“I am glad to hear it is the land of something beautiful,” she said -bitterly. - -“Does it frown to you so very much?” he asked kindly. - -“Yes,” she answered almost fiercely. “Terribly.” - -“But if we have a beautiful spring, you will think differently of it,” -he said. - -“No, no,” she replied, standing still for the moment; “nothing could -make me like it. It isn’t only the scenery--it’s everything: the -isolation, the fearful distance from home, the absence of stimulus. One -doesn’t realise this at home. If one only realised it, one would not -come. Nothing would make one come,” she continued excitedly, “neither -love nor friendship, nor duty nor regret; and as for ambition to carve -out a new career for oneself--good heavens! if I were a man, I would -rather starve in my old career.” - -Her thoughts, till now locked in her heart, were leaping into freedom. - -“Oh,” she said, “if you only knew what a relief it is to me to speak -out to some one. I have been suffocated these last days, and every hour -it has been getting worse. I’ve written letters--oh, yes, I’ve written -letters and torn them up in despair. The distance is so great, that it -paralyses one. You can’t send a chronicle of misery six thousand miles. -It’s just absurd mockery to do it. It’s only a caricature of your -depression. It helps you a little to write it, and then you must tear -it up at once, and that is all the comfort you will have out of it. Oh, -it is better than nothing: anything is better than nothing, when you -have to keep silent, and when some one near you is watching constantly -for your look of approval and waiting for your word of approbation, -and you cannot give either. You are simply forced to be silent. But -when you are able to speak out your real thoughts to a human being, -then you breathe again, as I’m breathing now.” - -She paused, and Ben was silent too. He did not know what to say. - -“But why, why do people come here?” she continued; “what do they find -here to like? What do they get in exchange for all they’ve lost? -Why, in the name of heaven, did Robert settle in such a place?--why -did _you_ choose to come here? Are you going to stay here all your -lives? Tell me what it all means. Tell me frankly and honestly whether -you care for your life here, and whether you would not throw it up -to-morrow if you could.” - -“I will tell you what it all means,” said Ben, slowly; “it means that -it’s a land and a life for men, and not for women. We men gain in every -particular: no more small clerkships for us, no more imprisonment -in airless offices; but out-of-door freedom, and our own lives to -ourselves, and our own land. That is what it all means to us. To you -women--well--” - -“Well?” she said impatiently. - -“To you women it is altogether something different,” he continued, -“and unless you all know how to love desperately, there is not much to -redeem the life out here for you.” - -She laughed bitterly. - -“No, apparently not much,” she said. “So here, as everywhere, the women -come off the worst.” - -“It seems to be so,” he answered reluctantly. - -“Unless we can manage to love desperately,” she said, in bitter scorn, -“and then even Southern California can become a paradise to us. Is that -what you think?” - -“I think that love and friendship can make things easier, even on a -lonely ranch in Southern California,” Ben replied. - -“The men are to have eternal freedom from airless offices and small -clerkships, and to enjoy out-of-door lives, and revel in the possession -of their ranches,” Hilda continued; “and the women are to do work to -which they have never been accustomed at home, are to drudge and drudge -day after day in an isolated place without a soul to talk to, and their -only compensation is to love desperately. A pretty picture indeed! Oh, -well, it is folly of me to talk of it, perfect folly, and to you of -all people, Bob’s friend.” - -“Better to Bob’s friend than to Bob himself,” Ben said quietly. - -She glanced up at him. There was something so soft in his voice -whenever he spoke of Robert. Hilda was touched. - -“You are anxious on Robert’s behalf?” she said. - -“Yes,” he answered simply. “I am.” - -They walked on in silence for a few minutes. - -“You see, we have been such close friends,” he said, “and I nursed him -through a bad illness, and learned to look upon him as my own property. -He came into my life, too, at a time when I was desolate. The world -seemed a desert to me. But Bob held out his hand, and helped me along -to a green place. I have found many green places since then.” - -“With such a close friendship as that, you must surely resent my -presence out here,” Hilda said tentatively. - -“Yes,” he said staunchly, “I resent it most deeply, if you do not make -him happy.” - -Hilda smiled. She liked his candour; she liked everything about him. - -They had reached the road which led up to her house. - -“Good-bye,” he said; “I won’t come in just now. I must make my way back -whilst it is still fine. Tell Bob I’ll be in to-morrow.” - -She stood watching him for a moment, and then she went home. - -As she opened the door, her husband came forward to greet her, with a -smile of love and welcome on his face. Everything was ready for her: -the cloth was laid, the food was cooked, the kettle was boiling, there -were fresh flowers on the table. - -“Oh, Robert,” she said warmly, “and you’ve done everything for me, and -you so tired with the day’s trouble.” - -“Hush,” he said, smiling sadly, “the day’s trouble is past.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -ATTRACTION AND REPULSION - - -There were three days more of incessant rain and wind, and then the -storm ceased, and the sun shone brightly. On the morning of the second -fine day, a waggon drove up to Hilda’s house, and Holles got off, -leaving Ben in charge of the horses. - -“We called in to see if we could do anything for you in the village,” -he said, when Hilda opened the door to him. - -“I should be ever so much obliged if you would bring me a sack of -flour,” she said; “I have just come to the end of my supply. Robert -did not want to send our horses in yet. He says the roads are not safe.” - -“No, I don’t suppose they are,” said Holles. “But if you had been -living on preserved pine-apples and empty coal-oil tins for the last -week or ten days, you would be willing to risk a good deal for the sake -of some flour or a piece of Porter House steak. We fellows over the -river have been starving. Empty coal-oil tins and preserved pine-apples -are not very fattening, are they? But there, I mustn’t grumble. We -managed to get over to Ben one day, and he gave us one of his skinniest -fowls in exchange for a large jar of my best marmalade. There was -nothing on the fowl; but there never is anything on Ben’s fowls, so we -weren’t disappointed. Only for goodness’ sake don’t tell that to him. -He’s awfully touchy on the subject!” - -Hilda laughed, and asked about the damages done by the storm on the -other side of the river. - -“Graham has come off very badly,” Holles answered. “His house was taken -clean away, and three acres of his best olives are completely ruined. -We have some fearful cuts on our land, and the poor devil of a Chinaman -who had his kitchen-garden half a mile away from our place has lost -everything, cabbages, asparagus, pig-tail, and all. Graham is living -with us just now, and he says he must have something to eat to keep -up his spirits. So I said I would risk my valuable life for the good -of the whole community. The waggon and horses are Ben’s. After I got -across the river, I went and stormed at him until he hitched up. He did -not want to come with me, and began swearing at me in that poetical -fashion of his, until I referred casually to the skinny fowls raised on -his ranch, and then he said: ‘Hold hard, Jesse, I’ll come with you.’ So -we are off together, and if you do not hear anything more of us, you -will know that we have found a muddy grave!” - -“Good-bye,” Hilda said. “I hope you will come safely back, bringing -my flour, and the mail. And some day I want you to tell me about your -experiences with the ear-trumpet lady.” - -“All right,” sang out Holles, cheerily. “Good-bye.” - -He stood for a moment, looking down like a shy boy. - -“We fellows are all so sorry about the reservoir,” he said kindly. -“If there is anything we can do to help old Bob, we’re all ready and -willing.” - -He was off quickly after that, and Hilda watched him jump into the -waggon and take possession of the reins. Then he cracked the big black -snake, and started away in grand style. - -“Confound you, Holles!” Ben said, as they rattled over the roads. “Do -drive carefully. You will be landing us in one of those holes; I’ll -take the lines. I don’t want the waggon smashed up, and the horses -lamed.” - -“I’m sorry, old man,” Holles replied cheerfully. “I’ll promise to be -careful, but I cannot possibly let you drive. I always feel like going -to my own funeral when you handle the whip. Here, get up, boys. Don’t -be frightened of the mud. We’re not going to stick yet. Get up, boys! -But, by Jove, Ben, the roads are heavy.” - -“They are not fit for travelling yet,” Ben answered. “But you worried -me into coming. It is better to give in to you and have peace.” - -“Grumble away as much as you like,” Holles answered; “I would rather -have any amount of your grumblings than one of your fowls. What on -earth do you do to your fowls to turn them out so thin? You might make -your fortune by exhibiting them. They’re quite unique!” - -“Don’t chatter so much, and look out where you are going,” said Ben, -pretending not to notice Jesse’s chaff. - -Holles laughed, and drove on silently for a few minutes. Then he said: - -“That’s a bad piece of luck about Bob Strafford’s reservoir. Poor -fellow! He will take it dreadfully to heart. And I am sorry for her -too. It must be lonely for her in this part of the country.” - -Ben made no answer. - -“I can’t for the life of me understand about women,” Holles continued. -“If I were a fine girl like that, nothing on earth would induce me to -come out to this kind of existence. Any one can see that she is out of -place here.” - -“The women have a bad time of it in a new country,” Ben said slowly. -“If you talk to any one of them, it is nearly always the same story, -home-sickness and desolation, desolation and home-sickness. I remember -last year up north meeting such a handsome woman. Her husband had made -quite a good thing out of Lima beans, and they had everything they -wanted. But she told me that she did not know how to live through the -first ten years of home-sickness.” - -“That’s a cheerful prospect for Mrs. Strafford,” said Holles. - -“She will probably work her way through, as they all do,” answered Ben. -“Women are wonderful creatures.” - -“You always have something to say for women,” said Holles. “You ought -to go back to the old country, and help them get the suffrage and all -that sort of thing. You are lost to them out here. How my maiden aunt, -who only lives for the Cause, as she calls it, would adore you!” - -Ben smiled, and then said quietly: - -“Robert’s ranch has been put back at least three years. I don’t -suppose Mrs. Strafford realises that yet. But it is very hard on her, -and cruel for him. He has worked untiringly, poor chap, and used every -means in his power to reach success. Well, I simply cannot speak of it, -Jesse. It chokes me. Look out now. There’s something ahead. Don’t go an -inch out of the road, or we shall get mired.” - -As they came nearer, they saw that a cart, heavily laden with large -bales of hay, had stuck in the mud. Two men were leading the horses -away. - -“Can we pass?” Ben asked of them. - -“There’s just enough room to manage it,” one of them answered. - -“We’ll try for it,” said Holles. “Get up, boys!” - -They might have been able to creep past in safety, but that one of -the team shied at the bales of hay, and swerved about three feet from -the road. In an instant, the horses were plunging in the mud, and the -spring-waggon had sunk up to the hubs. Ben took the black snake, and -whipped up the poor brutes, and, together with Holles, shouted, coaxed, -and swore. - -But they had gone down so deep that they could not free themselves. -They plunged and paddled and struggled hard to drag out the waggon, -until at last one of them, more faint-hearted than the other, gave up -trying, and began nibbling the grass. - -Ben and Holles jumped down, and walked very gingerly over the soft -ground, which, in the neighbourhood of the horses’ hoofs, was precisely -like pea-soup. They unhitched the animals, who then sprang forward -and gained firm footing once more. There they stood tired and panting, -their long tails looking like house-painter’s brushes steeped in rich -brown colouring. - -“I won’t be worried again into bringing my team out so soon after a -storm,” said Ben, half humorously, as he stroked both the horses. “They -don’t care about a mud bath.” - -“It won’t hurt them,” answered Holles. “In fact it is a capital thing -for the health. My maiden aunt used to go every year to Karlsbad for -the mud baths, and after the tenth season she really began to feel the -benefit of them. All the same, Ben, I am glad we had not to dig out the -horses. That is the very devil. Now for the waggon. I have a brilliant -idea.” - -He saw a rope in the hay cart, and at once possessed himself of it. He -fastened it to the pole of their own waggon, and attached it to the -horses. Then once more Ben cracked the black snake, and the horses, -being now on solid ground, tugged and tugged, and at last pulled out -the waggon. - -“You ought to thank your stars you had me with you,” said Holles, as -they started on their way again. “I’m so wonderfully ingenious.” - -He drove into the village in grand style, much elated that he and Ben -had come off so easily. A great many men were gathered together at the -grocery-store, which was also the post-office, and horses and buggies -of every description were crowding the road: most of the horses looked -as though they had been mired, and several of them wore an air of -depression born of wounded pride. Others obviously did not care whether -or not their appearance was changed for the worse, and received with -stolid indifference the various uncomplimentary remarks bestowed on -their tails. - -This was the first time of meeting since the great storm, and every -one had something to tell about his own experiences. There was anxiety -expressed about the enormous earth dam of the Nagales reservoir which -supplied the Flume. If it had burst, as some one reported, untold-of -damage would have been done; and moreover, the whole water-supply -for the summer months’ irrigating would have been wasted. This was -a terrible prospect, and especially so after a long drought of -exceptional severity. But the postmaster, who was busy distributing -the accumulation of several days’ mail, said there was no truth in the -report. - -“I wish there was no truth in the news about poor old Strafford’s dam,” -said some one. “Can’t you contradict it, Overleigh?” - -Ben shook his head. - -“It is only too true,” he said sorrowfully. - -“Well, it’s a miserable thing to happen, and so soon after his -marriage,” said the postmaster. “Are you taking his mail, Mr. Holles?” - -“Yes,” answered Holles. “Great powers! Is this cart-load for him? Oh, I -see, it’s mostly for his wife. What a stunning lot of papers! By Jove! -I wish my people would send me some. The only thing I ever get from the -old country is ‘The Young Christian at Home.’ And Lauderdale gets ‘The -Christian Household.’ No wonder we are always depressed. Here, stay a -moment, Ben. I’m not through with the shopping. I’ve nearly forgotten -Mrs. Strafford’s sack of flour. And I want a tin of oysters. Graham is -so upset about losing his three acres of olives, that he says the only -possible thing to help him is _boiled oysters on toast_. Well, now I am -about ready.” - -With a greeting here and a nod there, the two friends drove off. -Ben took the reins, and Holles sorted the mail, and seemed greatly -interested in the outsides of Mrs. Strafford’s newspapers and -magazines, and in their insides too, for he held each one up to the -light, looking through it as though through a telescope. - -“Well, I wish they were for me,” he said, as he pushed them away -and lit his pipe. “But I don’t grudge them to her. I daresay she is -terribly home-sick for old England: and the mail will cheer her up. -Somehow or other I feel sorry for her--don’t you, Ben? What do you -think of her?” - -“I don’t know,” said Ben, slowly. - -And he spoke the truth. He had thought of her constantly ever since -his long walk and talk with her. He recalled her fierce distress, her -sudden breaking down of the barrier of reserve, her cry of relief at -being able to speak openly about the isolation and unattractiveness of -the life and land. He remembered every word she had said; he remembered -every gesture. In turning the whole matter over in his mind, he was -torn by several conflicting feelings: sympathy with her suffering, -indignation with himself for being able to sympathise at all with -her, resentment against her for her cold criticism of Robert in the -very midst of his distress, a growing suspicion that her nature had -nothing to offer of tender love and passionate devotion, and an uneasy -consciousness that in spite of all this, and in spite of his loyal -and long attachment to poor old Bob, there was something about her -personality which attracted him immensely, something gallant in her -bearing, and something irresistible in her appearance. He could not but -admire her, and he hated himself for it. - -He did not listen to Jesse Holles’s chatter, and he looked with -indifference at the country smiling now in serene sunshine, and at the -softened lights on the mountains. Holles tried to draw his attention -to a few blades of grass springing up on the roadside, and as they -neared Robert’s house, he glanced down into the valley and exclaimed -with delight when he saw the river glistening like gold. But Ben, -usually so susceptible to the beauties of nature, and so enthusiastic -about the varying charms of this wild expanse of scenery which he -greatly loved, noticed nothing. - -Then the sound of a harsh voice recalled him from his musings, and -there stood Hilda. - -“So you are back safely,” she said brightly. - -“Yes,” said Holles, as he handed out her letters and papers. “We were -badly mired going; but the marvel is that we did not sink up to our -very eyes coming back, owing to the heavy weight of your mail. But, -oh, how I envy it! How I should enjoy those papers! This is not a hint. -It is merely an emotional observation, which I regret already.” - -“You need not regret it,” laughed Hilda. “I hope you will all read my -papers.” - -“We will try,” said Holles, quaintly. “And here is the sack of flour. I -will just lift it into the house. It is a perfectly lovely day. Spring -has come!” - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE GREAT MIRACLE - - -To enjoy and appreciate to its fullest possibilities a Californian -spring, let me choose, for one, to live first through a Californian -summer. Then I can see the great miracle with my own eyes, watch it in -its tiniest and swiftest workings, and follow it with loving wonder. - -Now those plains and slopes yonder lay bare and brown for many months: -everything on them was scorched up and covered with thickening dust. -The sumac, to be sure, kept its greenness, and even sent out tender -shoots, just to remind us perhaps that Nature was not really dead, but -slumbering beneath her ugly garment of dust and withered growth, even -as elsewhere she takes her time of rest beneath a lovelier covering of -purest white. The foothills were barren of any kind of beauty: the very -stones and rocks wore an uncompromising air of ugliness, and the whole -country seemed to be without a single charm until the hour of sunset, -and then the mountains were tinged with purple light, and the great -boulders themselves appeared to have donned for the moment a suit of -purple heather. - -Ah, for the green pastures in other countries then, for the deep lanes, -and forests of trees, for the brooks and rivers, for the grass and -ferns and mosses, and for everything in Nature soothing to the eye and -comforting to the spirit! - -But as time went on, my friends, regret and longing crept stealthily -away, and curiosity and wonder took their place, for some change was -coming over the country, almost imperceptible and most mysterious. -There was no rain, but the night-fogs cast their moisture on the -dried-up bush and starved-looking chaparral. Tiny leaves broke forth -and gave the first sure sign that the long summer sleep was over. And -surely those hills had lost their former crude brown colouring, and -had mellowed into tenderer tints. There was a softening spell over -everything, and a strange sense of unrest. The heavens looked troubled, -and threatened rain at last. But still no rain came, and yet one might -see how the fresh growth was struggling to assert itself unaided. Then, -after many days of waiting, the rains fell. - -And Nature began to work her beautiful miracle. She had delayed so long -that she had to work quickly; but those who cared enough, could follow -her in every detail. - -A few faint signs of grass on the roadside, the palest shimmer of green -on the slopes, fine little leaves springing from the ground, a tiny -flower here and there, and in the cañons frail ferns. - -Then a luxuriance of green: vast expanses of young fresh grain on the -foothills and in the great plain yonder: stretches of emerald grass -almost dazzling in its intensity, with a dash of even brighter colour, -matched only by the sea-moss on the rocks: green fields of pasture in -the valley, and on the heights green brushwood spread like a soft -velvet mantle over the distant ridges. - -And then the flowers springing up in places where neither growth nor -life seems possible. - -Carpets of the little pink blossom of the alfilaria, the first spring -flower: carpets of the golden violets charged with delicious fragrance, -and of the shooting-stars, so dainty with petals of white and delicate -purple, and so generous of sweetest perfume. - -Colours of every hue: masses of wild hyacinths, pale lavender in -shade, thousands of yellow flowers varying from a faint tint to a deep -orange: blue, pink, red, purple flowers, any you will, and amongst them -delicate white ones of many lovely designs. - -And the splendid poppy flaming and flashing in the sunlight, and the -rich indigo larkspur, and the vetches and lupins and the lilies--how -can one tell of them all, and how can one describe the gladness and -gratitude and wonder which their presence calls forth? - -And then in cañons and timbered hiding-places, known only to those -who pry and probe, many a curious and lovely flower. And as the weeks -go on, fresh treasures, revealing themselves in place of those which -have passed out of sight: glorious monster poppies of crinkled white -satin, and yellow hairy mariposa lilies, just like luscious yellow -butterflies. Vines and creepers trailing on the ground, and festooning -shrubs and rocks; sweet scents wafted now from here and now from there, -and now mingling together in fragrant accord. - -And all these wonders tenfold more wonderful because of that burnt and -dried-up soil from which nothing beautiful seemed possible. - -But stay! The summer is here once more. The foothills are brown again: -the slopes and plains where the grain has been grown and cut, have -chosen for themselves the colour of old gold plush. Brown and old gold: -surely a charming combination. - -Is it that familiar scenes take on an ever-increasing beauty? Is it -that the more intently we look, all the more surely do we see fresh -loveliness; just as when gazing into the heavens at eventide, first -one star reveals itself to us, and then another? Or is it that we know -spring will come indeed, bringing those treasures which enchanted us? - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -ROBERT TAKES HEART - - -So every day the country put on fresh beauties, and Robert was a little -comforted to see that Hilda took pleasure in watching the quick growth -and marking the constant change in the scenery. - -“When the wild-flowers are at their best,” he said, “you will begin -to think that Southern California is a beautiful land after all. That -foot-hill yonder will be aglow with orange-coloured poppies, and those -other slopes over there across the river will be covered with brightest -mustard. I admire the mustard more than anything.” - -She smiled at him, and found something kind to say about all the -wonderful surprises in store for her, and she seemed so appreciative -of the fresh charms of the country, which were unfolding themselves to -her one by one, that he began to hope she might yet learn to care for -the new life and the new land. He put his troubles bravely on one side, -and went back to work. Hilda saw him contemplating his ruined ranch; -and when he came in, although he tried to conceal his feelings, yet his -thin face wore a peculiar look of pain, which softened her almost into -tenderness. He said very little about the disaster, and spoke only of -filling up the wash, levelling the land, ploughing and cultivating it, -and getting it in good condition for the planting of fresh lemon-trees. -All this meant terribly hard work, and he looked really quite unfit to -take the slightest exertion. Ben was anxious about him, and came over -every day to help with the cultivating of that part of the ranch which -had escaped damage. He pushed Bob quietly away, and took possession of -the cultivator. - -“Sit down and smoke, old man,” he said. “You’re about as fit as a -kitten to do this kind of job.” - -Bob was glad enough to rest. He watched Ben, smoked his pipe, and -smiled to hear his friend swearing at the horses. - -“I’m so fearfully tired, Ben,” he said. “I suppose it is the worry and -the disappointment and all that. But I shall be rested in a day or two, -and then I must tackle that waste land. I daresay in a fortnight’s -time, if we don’t have any more rain, the ground will be solid enough -to be worked.” - -“It will be a big business,” Ben said, glancing in that direction. - -“I shall have no peace until I have started it,” Bob said doggedly. - -“Well, we are all coming to help,” Ben answered. “All the fellows are -sorry, and you will have quite a little gang round you. Holles is a -splendid worker when he chooses, and he will go ahead like a ship on -fire for your sake.” - -“You boys are good to me,” Bob said gratefully. “I know you will help -me.” - -Then he added half-shyly: - -“The little wife is ever so kind about the whole affair. And I do -believe she is beginning to like the life out here better than she -ever thought she would. I’ve been terribly worried about her, Ben. In -spite of my great happiness, I feel it was selfish of me to ask her to -leave England and her people, and the many pleasures and interests she -has always had in her life over there.” - -“She needn’t have come,” Ben answered stoutly. - -Bob smiled happily. - -“No, that is just the comfort of it,” he said. “She came because she -cared about me. But, nevertheless, I am anxious the whole time. When -anything pleases her, I cheer up a little, and lately she has taken so -kindly to the riding. She will soon be a splendid horsewoman. She looks -well on a horse.” - -“Yes, by Jove!” answered Ben, enthusiastically. - -“And the country is coming on beautifully,” continued Bob. “We shall -have an abundance of flowers. That will be a pleasure to her. But she -does not touch the piano. She sits down beside it, looks at it, and -goes away. At home she used to play by the hour.” - -“She will play in time,” said Ben, kindly; “just leave her to choose -her own moment. Some day when you least expect it, you will hear her -touching the notes.” - -But he went away with his heart very sore about his friend; for though -he believed that Hilda was trying her best to seize hold of the new -life and make what she could of it, he remembered his long conversation -with her, and felt that she would never be reconciled to the lot which -she had deliberately chosen. She had not once referred to her outburst -of confidence that afternoon: at first she had seemed a little nervous -in his presence; but as the days passed by and she saw him constantly, -the slight uneasiness of manner wore off. She trusted to his kindness, -and he knew it. He knew, too, that she liked him and looked forward -to seeing him, and, for his own part, he could not but admire the -brave attempt she was making to adapt herself to these difficult -circumstances. It was altogether admirable. But that set expression on -her face betrayed to him the real state of her mind, and he trembled -for Bob. And yet he had to own that she was good to her husband. Strong -as a panther herself, she did not understand much about ill-health, -but she tried to save his strength. Only she did not love him. It was -this that Ben resented in her. Still he was greatly attracted to her at -times, much against his will and against his prejudices. Then he would -go home twirling his moustaches, and swearing softly and continuously. - -So the weeks slipped away, and Bob began to work at the ruined half -of his ranch. He looked very frail, and there was something about his -unrelenting doggedness which filled Ben with alarm. Nothing would -induce him to spare himself over this difficult task. He might be seen -at any hour of the day struggling with that stubborn land, filling up -the wash-outs, now and then pausing to rest, and after a few moments -returning with redoubled zeal to his tedious occupation. It made no -difference to his quiet persistence when the other men came to help -him. Ben worked alongside with him, and could not induce him to leave -off; Graham, Lauderdale, and Holles rode over constantly and gave him -the best of their strength and willingness, but he never relaxed for -their presence; indeed they rather stimulated him to further efforts. -Holles was in capital form, and kept every one in good spirits. - -“I never remembered to have worked as hard as this,” he said once or -twice. “It just shows what a beautiful character I am, if people would -only believe it. I would not have done it for myself. But I am not -really properly appreciated in this neighbourhood.” - -Hilda liked him immensely, and was always ready to hear his unique -experiences by land and by sea. She laughed till the tears streamed -down her cheeks, for Holles had quite his own method of narrating. He -told her, too, of his famous feud with the ear-trumpet lady, and how -he had refused to work for her because he preferred not to be watched -through an opera-glass. - -“Ben does not mind being watched through an opera-glass,” he said, “and -I believe Bob rather likes it. But, even if I were on the verge of -starvation, I would not work on such infamous conditions. No; I still -have some lingering sense of dignity, and that wretched old woman will -never have the benefit of my valuable services. But there! I forgot she -was a friend of yours and had lent you her piano. Does she come and -listen to you through an opera-glass?” - -“She came once,” answered Hilda, “but she did not ask me to play, and -she was particularly kind about the piano, and told me to keep it as -long as I pleased. She is away now, but when she returns, I must go and -see her.” - -“Well, I think all the better of her,” said Holles, brightly. “Perhaps -I will work for her.” - -Then he told Hilda he was passionately fond of music, and he asked her -to play for him. - -“I have never cared for anything so much as for music,” he said -gently. “It always had a mysterious influence over me. Do you know, I -believe it appeals to the best part of us. Sometimes when I’ve been -in the back-country knocking about and not knowing where I was going -next, a most painful yearning for music has come over me, and I have -positively suffered from the deprivation. At moments like that, it -is an awful thing to be cut off from all possibility of easing one’s -longing.” - -Hilda made no answer. She touched the key-board, and after hesitating, -she played some dainty old French gavotte. She followed it up with a -mazurka by Godard. - -“Did you like that?” she asked. - -Jesse’s face had fallen. He looked unsatisfied. - -“Play me something sad now,” he said. “That is the music one cares for -most, because it is the truest, I suppose.” - -Her fingers wandered aimlessly over the notes. - -“I don’t know that I can play anything sad to you,” she said quietly. - -[Illustration: “HILDA AT THE WINDOW.”] - -“Why not?” he asked shyly, for her manner had suddenly intimidated him. - -“Because I don’t believe I dare trust myself,” she said, more to -herself than to him. - -She struck a few chords and began one of Chopin’s Nocturnes. She broke -off abruptly, rose from the piano, and went to the window. When she -turned round again Holles had gone. He had understood. - -But out on the ranch, Ben and Bob looked at each other when they heard -the strains of music, and Bob’s face was aglow with pleasure. Ben was -glad too. - -“My little wife has gone back to her music,” Bob said. “Now all will be -well with her. I feel as though things were going on better, and as -though she were not fretting so much for the old country.” - -Then the music ceased abruptly. - -“She did not finish that melody,” he said, a little uneasily. - -“I daresay she is tired,” Ben said reassuringly. - -Meanwhile Hilda rested on the honeysuckle verandah, and looked at the -distant ranges of mountains, and the foothills nestling up to them -as children to their parents; she listened to the sweet notes of the -mocking-bird who had lately taken up his quarters on the barn; she -watched the flight of a company of wild ducks; and she glanced at the -garden, where the flowers were growing apace. - -The camphor-trees were coming on bravely, and she was glad to see -that the grass was sprouting up. She tried to give her mind to each -separate thing which attracted her attention; and as the sun sank, and -the tender rosy glow spread over hill and mountain, she stared fixedly -at the beautiful sight until it faded into a tender vagueness. And then -once more Chopin’s Nocturne stole on her remembrance, overwhelming her -with regret and longing. - - - - -[Illustration: NACHTSTÜCK, No. 4.] - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -SCHUMANN’S NACHTSTÜCK - - -Everything went on as usual in the little community. Robert Strafford -worked incessantly, and, in addition to the help he received from his -friends, had engaged the services of a Chinaman, and had made great -strides with the redeeming of his land. His father had sent him some -money, and told him that he should remit a further sum in a month or -two, and Robert went to a lemon-nursery at once and bought five hundred -Lisbons, budded on the sour root. He was so engrossed in his ranch -that he did not notice how little interest Hilda was taking in all his -schemes. She seemed cheerful, and was busy from morning till night, -had learnt to milk the cow, and even helped on the ranch; but Ben, -who observed her closely, believed that her cheerfulness was assumed, -and that her ready conversation came from the lips only, and that her -eagerness for work arose merely from her desire to do battle with her -regrets. But Bob had taken heart and courage about her; and now eased -in monetary matters by his father’s generous help, felt that he was at -last coming out into the sunlight of life. So great was his confidence -in his ultimate success, and so convincing was his dogged persistence, -that, in spite of his misfortunes and his frail health, the minds of -his companions leapt forward, as it were, three or four years, and the -picture of a flourishing little ranch, more prosperous than any other -in the neighbourhood, forced itself upon their attention. - -It was nearly six weeks now since Hilda had touched the piano. But -to-day Robert had gone with the waggon into the village, and she was -alone on the ranch. She had been reading some of her home letters, -and looking at some photographs of Canterbury and Winchester, half -deciding to frame them, and finally concluding to put them away. She -opened the piano, and placed her music on the stand. She chose a -volume of Chopin, another of Schumann, and some pieces by Brahms and -Grieg. She played well. Her touch was firm and virile, but wanting -in tenderness. She played one of Chopin’s Impromptus and one of his -Ballades, and after that she passed on to his Nocturnes. She stopped -now and again and covered her face with her hands. She was quite -tearless. Then she played both of Brahms’ Rhapsodies, and some numbers -out of Schumann’s Carnèval. She leaned back in her chair, looking -almost like a statue. Her fingers sought the notes once more, and she -played Grieg’s _Einsamer Wanderer_, which is so intensely sad. - -“Jesse Holles would like that,” she said to herself; “but I could never -play it to him.” - -She paused, and her hands rested insensibly on the keys. - -“Oh, I must have been mad,” she said, with something like a sob, “to -have so much and to give it all up, _and for what_? Ah, if one could -only free oneself!” - -She drifted into Schumann’s Kinderscenen, choosing unconsciously the -saddest numbers, and then she struck the arpeggio chords and began his -most wonderful Nachtstück. - -[Illustration: “HILDA’S SELF-CONTROL BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY.”] - -It is fraught with melancholy, regret, longing, pity--and what else -besides? But surely it is idle work to describe beautiful music. As we -play and as we listen, if we are lovers of music, we use our own -interpretation; we weave our own feelings, our own emotions, our own -aspirations and regrets into it, and lo! for the moment we have made -it our own language.... Before Hilda had reached the closing phrases -of the Nachtstück, her self-control broke down completely. She nestled -up to the piano, her arms resting on the finger-board, her head bowed -over them. She sobbed unceasingly. The tears streamed unheeded from her -eyes. There seemed to be no end to the sobbing, no end to the tears. - -But at last she raised herself, and clasped her hands together at -the back of her neck, and looked up. Her husband was standing in the -doorway. - -“Hilda!” he cried, and he advanced a step, his arms extended. - -“No, no!” she cried, turning from him. “I want to be alone, I must -be alone, I’m too utterly wretched for words. It’s all of no use, I -can’t stand this life out here; it will just kill me--it isn’t life, -it is only existence, and such an existence too! I must have been mad -to come--I was mad, every one was against it--my mother and father -and friends, all of them. But I didn’t know what I was coming to--how -could any one know?--how could I picture to myself the desolation and -the deadness and the dull monotony, and the absence of everything -picturesque, and the barren country, which at its best can never be -comforting? I hate those mountains there, I could shake them, and I -could go out and tread down all those wretched rows of wretched little -trees--it’s all an absurd mockery of a life, it’s starvation from -beginning to end. You just feel that there is nothing to live for, and -you cry out the whole time to be done with it. Yes, I was mad, mad to -leave everything and come--I can see it well enough now, when it is -too late. But it was little enough you told me in your letters. Why -didn’t you make me understand clearly what I was coming to? And yet you -did try--I remember you tried; but how could any one ever describe the -awful desolation? Oh, it’s simply heartbreaking. And to think it has to -continue month after month, and year after year, and that there is no -escape from it. How shall I ever bear myself? How can I possibly go on, -drudging all the day long? For that is what the life out here means to -a woman--drudgery and desolation, and it is wickedly cruel.” - -Robert Strafford stood there paralysed. - -[Illustration: “ROBERT PASSED NOISELESSLY OUT OF THE HOUSE.”] - -“And such an unattractive place to settle in,” she continued wildly, -“when there are entrancing parts of the country near at hand: I saw -them myself on the journey. If you had to come, why not have chosen a -spot worth living in, where some kind of social existence was possible, -instead of burying yourself in a wilderness like this? But nothing -could ever make up to one for all one had lost, and if I were a man, -I would rather starve at home in my old career than cut myself off -from the throb and pulsation of a fuller life. Yes, indeed I would, -and to-morrow I would turn my face homewards and thank God that I had -freed myself at last, in spite of every one and everything, freed -myself at last--oh God! when I think of it all....” - -Robert’s face was ashen. Twice he tried to speak, and his voice failed -him. - -Then he said, quite quietly: - -“Never fear, Hilda, you shall have your freedom.” - -He opened the door, and passed noiselessly out of the house. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A STRICKEN MAN - - -He chose the road which led to Ben’s ranch, and he went along at an -almost feverish pace, not stopping to rest for a single moment, during -all those seven miles. When Ben saw him, he knew at once from the -terrible expression on his face that some trouble had befallen him. He -led him silently into the house, pushed him gently into the arm-chair, -and, with a tenderness all his own, forced him to take some food and -stimulant; and then drawing his chair alongside, and lighting his pipe -afresh, he waited, as close friends know how to wait, for the moment -when the heart desires to ease itself. At last Robert spoke, but so -quietly that his very manner would have awed any listener, and it -filled Ben with apprehension. - -“Ben,” he said, “Hilda has told me to-night how she hates the whole -life. She bitterly regrets having come, she bitterly reproaches me for -having settled in the country, and I recognise the truth of everything -she says. She yearns to be free again, and she shall have her freedom. -It is the very least I can do for her. But I’m a stricken man. I’ve -been fool enough to think she cared for me--I’ve loved her so much -myself, that it did not seem possible she could not care a little for -me--and I’ve been fool enough to try and make myself believe that in -time she might get reconciled to this Californian life. I might have -known it was never at any moment possible. I’ve made a wretched failure -of my life and career over in England and over here, and I’ve earned -for myself not her love, nor her tenderness, nor even her sympathy, -but her scorn. Ben, I felt it in every word she said. I can never -forget my humiliation, I can never forget her contempt. I could have -fought through other things, but not that. If that is all one gets -for all one’s years of longing and labour, then the game is not worth -the candle. Do you remember me telling you that the worst thing which -could happen to me would be, not her changing her mind and throwing me -over, but her disappointment and her scorn? Do you remember that? You -laughed at me, and tried to chase away my misgivings, but it seems to -me now that our misgivings are about the only things in our lives which -cannot be called failures.” - -Ben drew nearer to his friend. - -“Dear old man,” he said, “take heart again. She was home-sick perhaps, -and all the home-longings came leaping out. She could not have meant -to be hard. She will bitterly regret her words, and all will be well -between you again. You will forgive her, and the wound will be healed.” - -“There is nothing to forgive,” Robert said quietly. “I don’t blame her -at all, but I blame myself bitterly, bitterly.” - -“But I blame her,” said Ben, fiercely, “and face to face I shall tell -her so.” - -“The only thing I have against her is that she has not cared in the -very least for me,” Robert said, “and words cannot mend that, Ben.” - -He leaned back wearily in the chair, looking almost as though he had -ceased to be of this world. The silence was broken only by the note of -the mocking-bird, and the noise of the brown mare knocking impatiently -against the stall. - -“She must go home to the life which she gave up for me,” Robert said, -after a long pause. “I don’t want her sacrifices: they are not worth -anything to me. I think I have enough money left for her passage, and -if not, I know you will help me out. I must give her her freedom at -once.” - -He rose abruptly, but sank back with a groan, his hand to his heart. - -[Illustration: “‘BEN,’ HE MURMURED, ‘WE MUST--’ HE FAINTED AWAY.”] - -“Ben,” he murmured, “we must--” - -He fainted away. - -Ben got him on the ground, loosened his shirt, tended him as he had so -often done before in similar attacks, and he came back to life once -more. After a time Ben put him to bed like a little tired child. He -held Ben’s hand, and looked into his kind face and smiled. - -“Dear old fellow,” he said tenderly, “dear old fellow. We must send her -home, Ben,” he said, as he turned his face to the wall. - -Then he raised himself for a moment. - -“She was mistaken about one thing,” he said. “She had seen some of -those settled-up parts on her way out here, and they seemed attractive -to her, and she reproached me for not having bought land there. But -you know, Ben, I had not the money for that sort of thing; you know I -could not have afforded to pay fancy prices for my ranch. But it was -only that she did not understand.” - -After that he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, and Ben crept back -into the living-room, half beside himself with indignation and anxiety. -He felt he ought to let Hilda know that Robert was with him, and yet -it was quite impossible for him to leave his friend. He longed to see -her, and speak his mind to her about her cruelty. His whole being was -at feud with her. A torrent of words rushed to his lips, and broke off -into impotent silence. - -There was a knock at the door. When he opened it, he found Hilda -outside. - -“Robert is here?” she asked breathlessly. - -“Robert is here,” he answered coldly. - -He had stood barring the door as it were, and now he stepped back to -let her pass in. - -“I must see him at once,” she said, turning round defiantly to Ben. - -“He is sleeping,” Ben said sternly. “At least let him rest awhile.” - -He lit the lamp, and placed it on the table, and then looked her -straight in the face. - -“You have heard everything from Robert,” she said, shrinking back -almost imperceptibly. - -“Robert has told me of his trouble,” Ben answered, trying manfully -to restrain his anger. But he thought of his friend stricken to the -heart, and his indignation could no longer be smothered. - -“I blame you bitterly,” he said, folding his arms together tightly and -towering before her. “Yes, you shall hear what I think of you. He says -he has nothing against you, but I have everything against you! If you -had not a heart to bring with you, and some kind of tenderness, why did -you come out here? No one made you come. You could have stayed at home -if you had chosen. That would have been better than this. But to come -and give him nothing but scorn, and throw his failure in his face, and -make him feel that you despise him for not having done better in the -old country--I tell you that you are the one to be despised.” - -“It is not your part to talk to me like this,” she said, interrupting -him fiercely. “You are not my judge.” - -“And yet I do judge you,” he flung out fearlessly, and then he glanced -at her, and stopped short in the very heat of his anger and resentment, -for her face wore a terribly strained expression of pain, and his -gentler feelings were aroused even at that moment. “Ah, well,” he said, -“words are not of much use after all. I am so deeply sorry for him, and -for you too--there is nothing I would not do to set things right for -you both.” - -His kinder manner softened her at once. - -“I never meant to speak to him as I did this afternoon,” she said. “I -don’t know how it was that I could not control myself better, but I was -just wild with regret, and the music had stirred me up to such a pitch -that the words came tumbling out of their own accord; and after it was -all over, and he had gone, I stood there horrified with myself, and -terrified for him, because I knew he cared so much. And that has been -the awful part of it all through: he has cared so much, and I seemed -to have cared so little. Oh, you don’t realise how I’ve tried to take -up this life. Day after day I’ve begun over again and struggled to put -from me the dull feeling of depression, but it came back ten times -worse, until I’ve been in despair. Naturally enough you have only seen -the one side, but you would not think so harshly of me if you’d known -how I have tried, and how everything has been against the grain.” - -He turned to her with something of his old kind bearing. - -“I know you have tried,” he said slowly; and some of the pain passed -from her face when he spoke these words. - -“I think I would like to see if he is still sleeping,” she said, almost -pleadingly. - -Ben pointed to the bedroom door. - -“Don’t rouse him,” he said. “If he sleeps long and heavily, he may -wake refreshed. But I think he is very ill. He has just had one of his -fainting fits, and an obstinate one too, and his state of exhaustion -afterwards has made me horribly anxious.” - -She turned pale, and went softly into the bedroom. She came back in -a few minutes, and found Ben preparing supper. He looked up at her -eagerly, and was relieved when she told him that Robert was still -sleeping soundly, and that she had not lingered lest she might disturb -him. - -“He was murmuring something about not being able to pay a fancy price -for land,” she said. “I wonder what he meant.” - -“He took it greatly to heart that you thought he might have bought land -in a more settled part of the country,” Ben replied. “But he could not -have afforded to do that.” - -“He looks very ill,” Hilda said, half dreamily. - -“I have been anxious for him these many months,” Ben said quietly. “He -never had much strength, and he has overtaxed it with his ranch and his -reservoir. It is the story of many a rancher in California.” - -“And I have not helped him,” Hilda said. - -Ben was silent. - -“I would give anything on earth to undo this afternoon’s work,” she -said, with painful eagerness. “And it’s so awful to sit here, and not -be able to tell him that. I long for him to rest, and yet I long for -him to wake. I don’t know how to bear myself.” - -“You must wait,” Ben said, gently. - -So they waited and watched together. It was a lovely night, and the -country was bathed in moonlight. The mountains were darkly outlined -against the silvery sky. The world seemed to be one vast fairy-land, -wrapt in mystery and peace. On such a night, a poet might have woven -dreams, an idealist might have seen bright visions, and to them the -hours would have faded imperceptibly like the moonlight into dawn. - -But to Hilda that time of waiting seemed endless. She looked out -on the fairy scene, and then came back gratefully to the fire which -Ben had built up directly the night turned chilly. He sat near her, -smoking his pipe, and twirling his great moustaches. Once when he saw -her shiver, he rose and fetched a rug for her, and wrapped it around -her, and threw a few more logs on the fire. They did not attempt -conversation now: they sat rigidly upright, waiting for the morning to -dawn. Once she drowsed a little, and when she opened her eyes again, -Ben told her that Robert had called out loudly in his sleep, but was -now resting quietly. - -“The morning is almost here,” he said; “it is half-past three.” - -[Illustration: “SHE BENT OVER HER HUSBAND AND LOOKED AT HIS PALE FACE.”] - -She drowsed once more, and the clock was striking five, when she -suddenly started up and stole into the bedroom. She bent over her -husband and looked at his pale face. He lay there absolutely still: -there was no sound of breathing--no movement of the limbs. A sudden -fear seized her. - -“Ben!” she cried, “Ben!” - -Ben Overleigh heard his name, and felt a thrill of terror in her voice, -and knew by the answering terror in his own heart that the dreaded -trouble had come at last. Together they raised that quiet form, and -strove by every means they knew to bring it back to consciousness and -life. But in vain. - -Then he shrank back from her, and his fiercest anger took possession of -him. - -“So you have your freedom,” he said. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -PASSION AND LOYALTY - - -There was great sorrow felt when the news spread about that Robert -Strafford had died, but there was no surprise, for his friends had long -since seen that he was slipping away from them, having reduced himself -to the last inch of his strength through overwork and anxiety. It was -an old story in Southern California, and one not rightly understood in -the old country, but Ben Overleigh explained it in the letter which he -wrote to Robert’s father. - -“We buried him yesterday,” he wrote, “and his wife and we fellows -who had known him and loved him, stood by the grave. He never had -much strength, but what he had, he taxed to the uttermost. These last -months he worked like one possessed. No delicate frame could stand it, -and then he was unhappy about his wife, seeing her so home-sick. That -finished matters for him. I remember when I first met him about four -years ago, I thought it sheer madness for a frail young fellow like -that to come out to a life of physical toil. Ranching is not child’s -play, and if you want to succeed, you don’t sit down and watch your -trees; you work at them the whole time, and it isn’t light work. To -leave a city office, and come and be in the open air during the whole -day sounds inviting, but some of those who try it, and have not much -physical strength, go under. I wish this could be better understood -in the old country. But I expect no one realises, until he tries for -himself, what hard work manual labour really is, when one has never -been accustomed to it, and knows nothing about it. Two years ago a -young English doctor here died in the same way. He knew he had drained -himself of strength, and that his heart was worn out. I want you to -know we all loved your son, and as for myself, he leaves me bereft -indeed. I shall buy his ranch, and work it together with mine. His -wife will no doubt return as soon as she can, but at present there is -a tremendous railway strike going on, and we are entirely cut off from -the Eastern States. But some of the mails get through, and so I will -risk it, and send this letter.” - -Ben seemed to be quite a broken man, and went about his work as one -seeing nothing and caring for nothing. Graham and Lauderdale and Holles -tried their best to reach him with their kindness and sympathy; but he -seemed unreachable, as though he had climbed to some distant mountain, -and had cut himself off from human aid. But he liked to have Jesse -Holles near him, remembering always that Jesse had been fond of Robert, -and had given him many an hour of willing help. He looked after his -ranch as usual, and rode over to Hilda every day without fail. He spent -very little of his time with her personally, but worked on Robert’s -ranch, finding a melancholy satisfaction in continuing what his friend -had begun. He tended the horses, and helped Hilda in many ways. He -cultivated, he pruned, and then he came up to the house, and sat down -quietly with her, watching her as she prepared tea, watching and -wondering and turning over many things in his mind. He was intensely -sorry for her, but he had not told her that in words, although he knew -she understood it from his deeds. In spite of all that had occurred, -he could not help being strongly attracted to her, and sometimes when -he was alone at home, he found himself torn in pieces by his great -bereavement, by his sympathy with Hilda’s remorse, by his attraction to -her, and his repulsion from her. Thus the storm swept furiously over -Ben Overleigh. He told her once or twice that he would like to buy -Robert’s ranch, and he thought they would not have any difficulty in -arranging the matter. She did not make any definite reply, nor did she -show any interest in his suggestion. She seemed strangely indifferent -about the fate of the ranch, and about her own affairs and plans, -which were being held in abeyance by the great railway strike. It was -obvious, of course, that she would return home as soon as she could, -but she never once spoke of home, and never once referred to the strike -as interfering in any way with her own intentions. But she did speak of -Robert, and then there was no mistaking the remorse in her manner, and -the awe in her voice. - -“I can never forget how I wounded him,” she said. - -Ben did not answer her on these occasions; and his silence always stung -her. - -“You condemn me utterly,” she said, almost pleadingly, and she showed -by her intensity how much she cared for what this man thought of her. -She showed it all the more as the days went on, and, after all, it was -natural enough that she should turn to him as her only friend in this -distant country, where she was a complete stranger. But the matter did -not end there. She was strongly attracted to him, and either she could -not or would not hide it. At one moment a thrill of contempt would pass -through Ben, and he could have turned from her as from something which -soiled his soul; and at another moment a throb of passion would possess -him, and he could have thrown up everything for her, his loyalty to -his friend, his sense of dignity and fitness, his own estimate of her -character--everything he could have swept to the winds. He noticed, -too, that as the time went on, she seemed to become more reconciled -to the scenery; and indeed the country was looking entrancingly -beautiful. All Robert’s promises to her had come true: the foothills -were powdered with gold; some of the slopes were arrayed in bright -attire of orange-coloured poppies, and others had chosen for themselves -a luxurious garment of wild mustard. Then there was the dazzling green -grass, and the vast expanse of grain-fields, and in the distance yonder -there were patches of purple and yellow flowers, reminding one of -the gorse and heather in the old country. The grim barren mountains -looked down indulgently on all this finery, like old people who have -had their days of vanity, and are content to watch the young bedeck -themselves so gaily. And the air was laden with the heavy fragrances of -the flowers and the orange and lemon blossoms. Hilda drove out every -day, and brought back endless treasures: wild lilac, wild azalea, and -maiden-hair from some distant cañon. Her one consolation was to be -out of the house: she drove, or she rode the pretty little mare which -Robert had chosen so lovingly for her, and sometimes she strolled, -taking with her a stout stick in case she came across any snakes. -Nellie, the pointer, who had fretted piteously since Robert’s death, -went with her, and whatever she did, the dog was always to be seen -following her. Hilda’s health had not suffered from the shock which -she had sustained, but she often looked anxious and desolate, and some -of the people who saw her, thought she had changed sadly. They said -that was not to be wondered at, considering the sad circumstances of -her husband’s death, and the long continuance of the railway strike, -which made it impossible for her to join her friends. - -But one evening whilst she was sitting on the honeysuckle porch, Holles -rode up waving a paper in his hands. - -“Such good news!” he cried; “the strike is over. There has been some -kind of a compromise between the company and the men, and some of the -mails are through. I’ve got a ton-load for you in this gunny-sack. -Nothing for me, of course, except my religious paper. That never gets -lost.” - -She put the magazines on one side, and opened her home letters. They -were the first she had received in answer to her own letter telling of -Robert’s death. Her father wrote most kindly, enclosing an order on one -of the banks to cover her passage-money. - -“Of course you will come back at once,” he said, “and take up your life -where you left it.” - -The letter fell from her hands. - -The old life was offered to her again. There it was waiting for her, -and she was free to go and accept it, and taste once more of the things -for which she had been starving. - -She was free. There was no one and nothing to hinder her. She could go -back, and put these sad events and her remorse and her great mistake -away from her remembrance. She argued that one had not to suffer all -through one’s life for a mistake. She had not meant to be cruel to poor -Robert, but she ought never to have come at all. And now she was free -to go, and once at home again these months would seem to her as a time -of which she had dreamed during an uneasy night. - -But no sense of gladness or thankfulness came over her. She sat there, -and bit her lips. - -Home? What did she want with home? - -She rose and went into the living-room, carelessly throwing her letters -and papers on the table. The bank bill fell down, and she stooped and -picked it up, and her fingers moved as though they were being impelled -to tear it in shreds. - -But she tossed it whole on to the table. She struck a match to light -the lamp, but changed her mind and let the darkness creep on unrelieved. - -Ben Overleigh rode up half an hour afterwards, and found her thus. - -“I have come to tell you that the strike is over, and the train service -begins to-morrow,” he said. - -“I have heard,” she said rigidly. - -“You must be glad to hear the news,” he said. “This time of waiting -must have been very trying for you.” - -She did not answer. - -“And now at last you will be able to go home to your friends,” he said. - -She was silent. - -“I wanted to speak to you about the ranch,” he continued, a little -nervously. “I have set my mind on buying the place, and carrying out -Robert’s ideas. I hope you will give me the opportunity. If you look -over his papers, you will find at what figure he valued his property. -I only speak of it, because I thought that the certainty of being able -to sell the ranch and receive money down at once, might make it all the -easier for you, now that the line is open, to arrange your plans, and -return home.” - -“Home?” she echoed, as though in sudden pain. - -Ben started. - -“Yes,” he said quickly, “back to the life for which you have been -hungering ever since you came, back to all those interests which you -threw away, and then so bitterly regretted. Now your path is clear -before you, and you can go straight on, and forget that you ever took a -side-turning which led you to uncongenial pastures. Not every one can -do that.” - -“The old life!” she said wildly, “what does one want with the old life? -What do I care about returning? Why should I go home?” - -For a moment Ben Overleigh’s heart leapt within him. _Why should she -go home?_ These words were on his very lips, and others came rushing -afterwards, struggling and wrestling for utterance. The storm raging -around and within him for so many weeks, now assailed him with all its -fury--and left him standing as firm as those mountains yonder. - -“Why should you stay?” he said calmly; “you have said all along that -this Californian life was detestable to you, and that you could never -reconcile yourself to it. Have you forgotten that afternoon when you -poured out your confidences to me, and eased your mind of your misery? -Do you remember how you spoke of the isolation, the fearful distance -from home, and the absence of stimulus, and the daily drudgery, and the -mistake you had made in coming out to such a wretched land, and to such -a starved existence?” - -“Oh, I have not forgotten,” she said excitedly; “that was the first -long breath I’d taken since I left England.” - -“And do you remember how you said that if you’d only realised what -you were coming to, nothing would have made you come,” he continued -deliberately,--“neither love nor friendship, nor duty nor regret; and -that if you had been a man, you would have preferred to starve in your -old career rather than settle in such a land as this?” - -“Yes, yes,” she broke in, “and I meant every word I said.” - -“And do you remember how you asked me what it was we found to like -in the life,” he continued, “and whether we would not throw it up -to-morrow if we could, and what in the name of heaven we got in -exchange for all we had lost?” - -“Yes, yes, I remember,” she said breathlessly; “and do you remember -what you said then about the women?” - -“I said that we men gained in every particular, and that it was a life -for men and not for women,” he answered. - -“Ah, but there was something else,” she said, almost desperately. “You -said they came off badly here, but that their one salvation was to love -passionately, desperately--” - -“And if I did say so,” he said, turning to her fiercely, “what has that -to do with you and me?” - -There was no mistaking the ring of contempt in his voice. She smarted -in every fibre of her, and instantly gathered herself together. - -“No, you are right,” she said, with a quick nervous laugh. “It has not -anything to do with you and me.” - -He had struck a match as she spoke, and lit the lamp, and she came from -the window where she had been standing, and pushed into a heap the -letters and papers which were scattered over the table. - -“That railway strike has lasted a terribly long time,” she said, in a -tone of voice utterly different from her trembling accents of a few -minutes past. “But now, thank goodness, it is all over, and I can -arrange my plans at last. My father has sent the money for my return. -But it is good of you to wish to make things easy for my journey. I -shall not, however, need any more ready money, you see, for the cheque -is large enough to pay my expenses twice over to England.” - -Ben stood there half stunned by her sudden change of manner, and by the -consummate way in which she swept from her horizon the whole of this -incident between them. - -“And now about the ranch,” she continued, with the dignity of a queen. -“I will look out the papers to-morrow, and then we will settle it as -you wish. I do not know any one to whom I could sell dear Robert’s -ranch with greater pleasure than to you. But you must pay me at your -leisure. There is no hurry.” - -“Good God!” thought Ben. “A few minutes ago this woman was all but -throwing herself at my feet, and now she stands there and patronises -me.” - -He could scarcely control his anger and scorn, but he mastered himself, -and said quietly: - -“I shall be very grateful to have old Robert’s ranch. It will be some -consolation to me to take care of it and make it my own. You know we -loved each other, he and I. But as for payment, I shall prefer to give -the money down, at once.” - -“That shall be just as you please,” she said, with gracious -condescension. “And now good-night. I am very tired.” - -She held out her hand to him, but he looked her straight in the face, -bowed slightly, and left her. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -FAREWELL TO CALIFORNIA - - -A fortnight afterwards, Ben Overleigh and Jesse Holles saw Hilda -Strafford off at the station. She looked very pale, and glanced at Ben -uneasily from time to time. There was neither scorn nor anger in his -manner now, but just the old gentle chivalry, which was the outcome -of his best self. His face, too, had lost its expression of restless -anxiety, and there was a dignity about his whole bearing, which might -well have been the outward and visible sign of the quiet dignity of his -mind, won after a fierce struggle. - -“You shall have news of the ranch,” he said. “When the lemons come into -bearing, you shall know.” - -She smiled her thanks, and turning to Jesse, she asked whether she -could do anything for him in England. - -“Yes,” he said sadly, “kiss the dear ground for me.” And he added more -cheerfully: “And send me an illustrated paper sometimes.” - -“And for you?” she asked of Ben, hesitatingly. - -“Kiss the dear ground for me, too,” he answered. - -And this time he held out his hand to her, and she grasped it. - -Then the train moved off. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HILDA STRAFFORD *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/67881-0.zip b/old/67881-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9c07257..0000000 --- a/old/67881-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h.zip b/old/67881-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2484840..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/67881-h.htm b/old/67881-h/67881-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index cc1960f..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/67881-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5375 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - Hilda Strafford, by Beatrice Harraden—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} -div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - - - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.tdr {text-align: right;} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} - -.pagenum2 { - position: absolute; - left: 92.3%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} - -.pagenum3 { - position: absolute; - left: 92.5%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} - -.antiqua { - font-family: Blackletter, Fraktur, Textur, "Old English Text MT", "Olde English Mt", "Olde English", Gothic, serif, sans-serif;} - -p.drop-cap { - text-indent: -0.35em; -} -p.drop-cap2 { - text-indent: -0.75em; -} -p.drop-cap:first-letter, p.drop-cap2:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.85em; - text-indent: 0em; -} -.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2 { - text-indent: 0em; -} -.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2:first-letter -{ - float: none; - margin: 0; - font-size: 100%; -} - -.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} -.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} - -.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} -.large {font-size: 125%;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; - padding: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hilda Strafford, by Beatrice Harraden</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Hilda Strafford</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A California Story</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Beatrice Harraden</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Eric Pape</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 20, 2022 [eBook #67881]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Carlos Colon, David E. Brown, the University of California, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HILDA STRAFFORD ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="40%" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="" /></div> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>Hilda Strafford</h1> - -<p><span class="xlarge"><i>A California Story</i></span></p> - -<p>By<br /> -<span class="large">Beatrice Harraden</span></p> - -<p>Author of “Ships that Pass in the Night”<br /> -“In Varying Moods”</p> - -<p>With Illustrations by Eric Pape</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - - -<p>New York<br /> -Dodd Mead and Company<br /> -1897</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1896<br /> -By Beatrice Harraden</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<span class="antiqua">University Press</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A.</span></p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">Contents</h2> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="smcap"><small>Chapter</small></span></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="smcap"><small>Page</small></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Would it smile to Her</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13"> 13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Hilda Comes</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32"> 32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Growing Regrets</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51"> 51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Storm</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70"> 70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Down by the River</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88"> 88</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Attraction and Repulsion</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_119"> 119</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Great Miracle</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_138"> 138</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Robert takes Heart</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_145"> 145</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Schumann’s Nachtstück</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_162"> 162</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td><td> <span class="smcap">A Stricken Man</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_176"> 176</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Passion and Loyalty</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196"> 196</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Farewell to California</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217"> 217</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Portrait</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“Ben lit the lantern, and stationed himself -outside with it”</td><td class="tdr"> <i>page</i><a href="#Page_41"> 41</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“And he heard Robert asking questions”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_47"> 47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“She sat on the little verandah”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61"> 61</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“He lifted a piece of iron piping”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81"> 81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“There was no talk between them”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_93"> 93</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“Hilda could not leave the spot”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_105"> 105</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“Hilda at the window”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_157"> 157</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“Hilda’s self-control broke down completely”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_167"> 167</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“Robert passed noiselessly out of the -house”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_173"> 173</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“‘Ben,’ he murmured, ‘we must—’ -He fainted away”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_181"> 181</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“She bent over her husband and looked at -his pale face”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_193"> 193</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> -<p class="ph2">HILDA STRAFFORD</p> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -<p class="ph2">Hilda Strafford</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br /> - - -<small>WOULD IT SMILE TO HER?</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE day had come at last.</p> - -<p>Robert Strafford glanced around -at the isolated spot which he had -chosen for his ranch, and was seized -with more terrible misgivings than -had ever before overwhelmed him -in moments of doubt.</p> - -<p>Scores of times he had tried to put -himself in her place, and to look at -the country with her eyes. Would -it, could it, smile to her? He had -put off her coming until the early -spring, so that she might see this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -new strange land at its best, when the -rains had begun to fall, and the grass -was springing up, and plain and slope -were donning a faint green garment -toning each day to a richer hue, when -tiny ferns were thrusting out their -heads from the dry ground, and here -and there a wild-flower arose, welcome -herald of the bounty which Nature -would soon be dispensing with generous -hand, but after a long delay. -Such a long delay, indeed, that a new-comer -to Southern California might -well think that Nature, so liberal in -her gifts to other lands, had shown -only scant favor to this child of hers, -clothing her in dusty and unattractive -attire, and refusing her many of -the most usual graces. But when -the long months of summer heat are -over, she begins to work her miracle, -and those who have eyes to see and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -hearts to understand, will learn how -dearly she loves this land of sunshine, -and how, in her own good time, she -showers her jewels upon it.</p> - -<p>So just now, when this wonderful -change was stealing over the country, -Robert Strafford looked eagerly for -the arrival of Hilda Lester, who -had been engaged to him for more -than three years, and who was at -length able to break away from her -home-ties and marry him; when there -was a mystic glamour in the air, and -a most caressing softness; when the -lemon-trees were full of promise, and -some of them full of plenty; when -the little ranch, so carefully worked -and so faithfully nursed, seemed at -its very best, and well repaid Robert -Strafford for his untiring labor.</p> - -<p>He sat on the bench in front of -his barn, smoking his pipe and glancing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -with pride at his little estate on -the slope of the hill. He loved it so -much, that he had learnt to think it -even beautiful, and it was only now -and then that he had any serious misgivings -about the impression it would -produce on any one unaccustomed to -the South Californian scenery. But -now he was seized with overwhelming -doubt, and he took his pipe from his -mouth, and covered his tired-looking -face with his hands. Nellie, the white -pointer, stirred uneasily, and then got -up and rubbed herself against him.</p> - -<p>“Dear old girl,” he said, caressing -her. “You have such a faithful heart. -I’m all right, old girl; I’m only down -in the dumps a little.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly the sound of horse’s -hoofs was heard, and Nellie, barking -loudly, darted down the hill, and then -returned in triumph, now and again<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -making jumps of greeting to Ben -Overleigh’s pretty little chestnut mare -Fanny.</p> - -<p>Ben Overleigh swung off his horse, -hitched her to the post, and turned -quietly to his friend, who had not -risen from the bench, but sat in the -same listless position as before.</p> - -<p>“Well, now,” said Ben Overleigh, -sinking down beside him, “and I -tell you, Bob, you’ve made a deucèd -pretty little garden for her. That -deaf old woman with the ear-trumpet -has not grown finer violets than -those yonder; and as for your roses, -you could not find any better in -Santa Barbara itself. I can’t say -much for the grass-plot at present. -It reminds me rather of a man’s bald -head. But the creepers are just first -rate, especially the ones I planted. -And there isn’t a bonnier little ranch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -than yours in the whole neighbourhood. -If my lemons were coming -on as well as yours, nothing on earth -should prevent me from stepping -over to the dear old country for a -few weeks.”</p> - -<p>Robert Strafford looked up and -smiled.</p> - -<p>“The trees certainly are doing -splendidly,” he said, with some pride. -“I know I’ve given them the best -part of my strength and time these last -three years. There ought to be some -return for that, oughtn’t there, Ben?”</p> - -<p>Ben made no answer, but puffed -at his pipe, and Robert Strafford -continued:</p> - -<p>“You see, Hilda and I had been -engaged for some time, and things -did not go well with me in the old -country,—I couldn’t make my -niche for myself like other fellows<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -seem able to do,—and then there -came that wretched illness of mine, -which crippled all my best abilities -for the time. So when at last I set -to work again, I felt I must leave -no stone unturned to grasp some -kind of a success: here was a new -life and a new material, and I vowed -I would contrive something out of -it for Hilda and myself.”</p> - -<p>He paused a moment, and came -closer to Ben Overleigh.</p> - -<p>“But I don’t know how I ever -dared hope that she would come out -here,” he said, half-dreamily. “I’ve -longed for it and dreaded it, and -longed for it and dreaded it. If I -were to have a message now to say -she had thrown it up, I don’t suppose -I should ever want to smile -again. But that is not the worst -thing that would happen to one. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -dread something far more—her disappointment, -her scorn; for, when all -is done and said, it is a wretched -land, barren and bereft, and you -know yourself how many of the -women suffer here. They nearly all -hate it. Something dies down in -them. You have only got to look -at them to know. They have lost -the power of caring. I’ve seen it -over and over again, and then I have -cursed my lemon-trees. And I tell -you, Ben, I feel so played out by -work and doubt, and so over-shadowed, -that if Hilda hates the whole -thing, it will just be the death of me. -It will kill me outright.”</p> - -<p>Ben Overleigh got up and shook -himself, and then relieved his feelings -in a succession of ranch-life expletives, -given forth with calm -deliberation and in a particularly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -musical voice, which was one of -Ben’s most charming characteristics. -He had many others too: his strong -manly presence, his innate chivalry -to every one and everything, and -his quiet loyalty, made him an attractive -personality in the valley; -and his most original and courteous -manner of swearing would have propitiated -the very sternest of tract-distributors. -He was a good friend, -too, and had long ago attached himself -to Robert Strafford, and looked -after him—mothering him up in his -own manly tender fashion; and now -he glanced at the young fellow who -was going to bring his bride home -on the morrow, and he wondered -what words of encouragement he -could speak, so that his comrade -might take heart and throw off this -overwhelming depression.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>“That’s enough of this nonsense,” -he said cheerily, as he stood and faced -his friend. “Come and show me -what you’ve done to make the house -look pretty. And see here, old man, -I’ve brought two or three odd things -along with me. I saw them in town -the other day, and thought they -might please her ladyship when she -arrives. I stake my reputation particularly -on this lamp-shade. And -here’s a table-cloth from the Chinese -shop, and here’s a vase for flowers, -and here’s a toasting-fork!”</p> - -<p>They had gone into the house, -and Ben Overleigh had laid his -treasures one by one on the table. -He looked around, and realised for -the first time that Robert Strafford -was offering but a desolate home to -his bride. Outside at least there -were flowers and creepers, and ranges<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -of splendid mountains, and beautiful -soft lights and shades changing -constantly, and fragrances in the air -born of spring; but inside this dreary -little house, there was nothing to cast -a glamour of cheerfulness. Nothing. -For the moment Ben’s heart sank, -but when he glanced at his friend, he -forced himself to smile approvingly.</p> - -<p>“You’ve bought a capital little -coal-oil stove, Bob,” he said. “That -is the best kind, undoubtedly. I’m -going to have scores of cosy meals -off that, I can tell you. I think you -could have done with two or three -more saucepans, old man. But that -is as nice a little stove as you’ll see -anywhere. A rocking-chair! Good. -And a cushion too, by Jove! And a -book-shelf, with six brand-new books -on it, including George Meredith’s -last novel and Ibsen’s new play.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>“Hilda is fond of reading,” said -Robert Strafford, gaining courage -from his friend’s approval.</p> - -<p>“And some curtains,” continued -Ben. “And a deucèd pretty pattern -too.”</p> - -<p>“I chose them myself,” said the -other, smiling proudly,—“and, -what’s more, I stitched them myself!”</p> - -<p>So they went on, Ben giving comfort -and Bob taking it; and then -they made a few alterations in the -arrangement of the furniture, and -they tried the effect of the table-cloth -and the lamp-shade, and Bob put a -few flowers in the vase, and stood -at the door to see how everything -looked.</p> - -<p>“Will it smile to her, will it smile -to her, I wonder?” he said, anxiously.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>“Of course it will,” said Ben, also -stepping back to see the whole effect.</p> - -<p>“That lamp-shade and that table-cloth -and that vase and that toasting-fork -settle the whole matter, in my -mind!”</p> - -<p>“If there were only some nice -neighbours,” said Robert Strafford. -“But there isn’t a soul within six -miles.”</p> - -<p>“You are surely forgetting the -deaf lady with the ear-trumpet,” remarked -Ben, mischievously.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be a fool, Ben,” said -Robert Strafford, shortly.</p> - -<p>“She is not exactly a stimulating -companion,” continued Ben, composedly, -“but she is better than no -one at all. And then there’s myself. -I also am better than no one at all. -I don’t think you do so badly after -all, in spite of your grumblings.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -Then eight miles off live Lauderdale -and Holles and Graham. Since Jesse -Holles returned from his travels, they -are as merry a little company as you -would wish to see anywhere.”</p> - -<p>“Hilda is so fond of music,” said -Robert Strafford, sadly, “and I have -no piano for her as yet.”</p> - -<p>“That is soon remedied,” answered -Ben. “But why didn’t you -tell me these things before? The -ear-trumpet lady has a piano, and I -daresay with a little coaxing she would -lend it to you. I’m rather clever at -coaxing through a trumpet; moreover, -she rather likes me. I have -such a gentle voice, you know, and -I believe my moustache is the exact -reproduction of one owned by her -dead nephew! Her dead nephew -certainly must have had an uncommonly -fine moustache! Well, about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -the piano. I’ll see what I can do; -and meanwhile, for pity’s sake, cheer -up.”</p> - -<p>He put his hand kindly on his -friend’s shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Bob, I mean what I say,” he -continued; “for pity’s sake, cheer up, -and don’t be receiving her ladyship -with the countenance of a boiled -ghost. That will depress her far -more than anything in poor old -California. Be your old bright self -again, and throw off all these misgivings. -You’ve just worked yourself -out, and you ought to have taken -a month’s holiday down the coast. -You would have come back as strong -as a jack-rabbit and as chirpy as a -little horned toad.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I shall be all right,” said -Robert Strafford; “and you’re such -a brick, Ben. You’ve always been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -good to me. I’ve been such a sullen -cur lately. But for all that—”</p> - -<p>“But for all that, you’re not a bad -fellow at your best,” said Ben, smiling; -“and now come back with me. -I can’t have you mooning here by -yourself to-night. Come back with -me, and I’ll cook you a splendid -piece of steak, and I’ll send you off -in excellent form to meet and marry -her ladyship to-morrow morning. -Then whilst you are off on that -errand, I’ll turn in here and make -the place as trim as a ship’s cabin, -and serve up a nice little dinner fit -for a king and queen. Come on, old -man. I half think there may be -rain to-night.”</p> - -<p>“I must just water the horses,” -said Robert Strafford, “and then I’m -ready for you.”</p> - -<p>The two friends sauntered down to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -the stables, the pointer Nellie following -close upon their heels.</p> - -<p>It was the hour of sunset, that hour -when the barren scenery can hold its -own for beauty with the loveliest -land on earth. The lights changed -and deepened, and faded away and -gave place to other colours, until at -last that tender rosy tint so dear to -those who watch the Californian sky, -jewelled the mountains and the stones, -holding everything, indeed, in a passing -splendour.</p> - -<p>“Her ladyship won’t see anything -like that in England,” said Ben; and -he stooped down and picked some -wild-flowers which were growing over -the ranch: Mexican primroses and -yellow violets.</p> - -<p>“The ear-trumpet lady says this -is going to be a splendid year for the -wild-flowers,” he added, “so her ladyship<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -will see California at its best. -But I believe we are in for some -rain. I rather wish it would keep -off until she has happily settled down -in her new home.”</p> - -<p>“It won’t rain yet,” said Robert -Strafford, leading out one of the -horses to the water-trough. Then -Ben fetched the other one out; but -he broke loose and hurried up on -the hill, and Ben followed after him, -swearing in his usual patent manner -in a gentle and musical monotone, -as though he were reciting prayers -kneeling by his mother’s side. At -last the horse was caught, and the -chickens were fed, and Nellie was -chained up to keep guard over the -Californian estate. Robert mounted -his little mare Jinny and said some -words of comfort and apology to the -pointer.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>“Poor old Nellie, woman,” he -said; “I hate to leave you by yourself. -But you must keep the house -and ranch safe for your mistress. -And I’ve given you an extra supply -of bones. And we’ll go hunting -soon, old girl, I promise you.”</p> - -<p>Nellie went the full length of her -chain, and watched the two men -canter off.</p> - -<p>When she could no longer watch, -she listened, every nerve intent; and -when at last the sounds of the horses’ -hoofs had died away in the distance, -she heaved a deep sigh, and after -the manner of all philosophers, resigned -herself to an extra supply of -bones.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br /> - - -<small>HILDA COMES</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE next morning after Robert -Strafford had gone off to town -to meet Hilda, Ben Overleigh went -to his friend’s house and put everything -in order, and after having paid -special attention to the arrangement -of his moustache, he set out to visit -Miss Dewsbury, the deaf lady, -intending, if possible, to coax her -piano out of her. He was a great -favourite of hers, and he was indeed -the only person who was not thoroughly -frightened of her. She was -quite seventy years of age, but she -had unending strength and vitality,<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -and worked like a navvy on her -ranch, only employing a man when -she absolutely must. And when she -did employ any one, she mounted -to the top of the house, and kept -watch over him with an opera-glass, -so that she might be quite sure she -was having the advantage of every -moment of his time. The boys in -the neighbourhood often refused to -work for her; for, as Jesse Holles -said, it was bad enough to be watched -through an opera-glass, but to have -to put up with all her scoldings, and -not be able to say a word of defence -which could reach her, except through -a trumpet—no, by Jove, that -wasn’t the job for him! Also there -were other complaints against her: -she never gave any one a decent -meal, and she never dreamed of -offering anything else but skimmed<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -milk which people did not seem -able to swallow. They swallowed -the opera-glass and the trumpet and -the scoldings and the tough beef, -but when it came to the skimmed -milk, they felt that they had already -endured enough. So the best people -in the valley would not work for -Miss Dewsbury—as least, not willingly; -and it had sometimes happened -that Ben Overleigh had used -his powers of persuasion to induce -some of the young fellows to give -her a few days’ help when she was -in special need of it; and on more -than one occasion, when he could -not make any one else go to her, he -had himself offered her his services. -Thus she owed him some kindness; -and moreover his courtliness and his -gentle voice were pleasing to her. -He was the only person, so she said,<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -who did not shout down the trumpet. -And yet she could hear every -word he uttered.</p> - -<p>This morning when he arrived at -her house, she was vainly trying to -hear what the butcher said, and the -butcher was vainly trying to make -himself understood. She was in a -state of feverish excitement, and the -butcher looked in the last stage of -nervous exhaustion.</p> - -<p>“You’ve just come in time to -save my life,” he said to Ben. “For -the love of heaven, tell her through -the trumpet, that beef has gone up -two cents a pound, that she can’t -have her salted tongue till next -week, and that she has given me -seven cents too little.”</p> - -<p>Then Ben of the magic voice -spoke these mystic words through -the trumpet, and the butcher went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -off comforted, and Miss Dewsbury -smiled at her favourite; and when -he told her that he had come to -ask a special favour of her, she was -so gracious that Ben felt he would -have no difficulty in carrying out -his project. But when she understood -what he wanted, things did -not go so easily. To be sure, she -did not use the piano, she said, but -then that was no reason why any -one else should use it for her. Ben -stood waiting patiently until she -should have exhausted all her eloquence, -and then he stooped down, -and quietly picked one or two suckers -off a lemon-tree, and took his -pruning-knife from his pocket, and -snipped off a faded branch. After -this, with quiet deliberation, he twirled -his great moustaches. That settled -the matter.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>“You may have the piano,” she -said, “but you must fetch it yourself.”</p> - -<p>Ben did not think it necessary to -add that he had already arranged -for it to be fetched at once, and he -lingered a little while with her, listening -to her complaint about the -men she employed and about their -laziness, which she observed through -the opera-glass. Ben was just going -to suggest that perhaps the opera-glass -made the men lazy, when he -remembered that he must be circumspect, -and so he contrived some -beautiful speech about the immorality -of laziness; he even asked for -a glass of skimmed milk, and off he -cantered, raising his hat and bowing -chivalrously to the old lady rancher. -Before very long, her piano stood in -Robert Strafford’s little house, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -Ben spent a long time in cleaning -and dusting it.</p> - -<p>After he had finished this task, -he became very restless, and finally -went down to the workshop and -made a rough letter-box, which he -fixed on to a post and placed at the -corner of the road leading up to -his friend’s ranch. Two hours were -left. He did a little gardening and -watered the tiny grass-plot. He -looked at the sky. Blue-black -clouds were hovering over the mountains, -obscuring some and trying to -envelop others.</p> - -<p>“We are in for a storm,” he said. -“It is making straight for this part -from Grevilles Mountain. But I hope -it won’t come to-night. It will be a -poor welcome to Bob’s wife, though -it’s about time now for the land to -have a thorough good drenching.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>He looked at the pretty valley -with its belt of trees, seen at its best -from the hill where Robert’s house -was built. At all times of the year, -there was that green stretch yonder -of clustering trees, nestling near the -foothills, which in their turn seemed -to nestle up to the rugged mountains.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, as he turned away, -“those trees make one home-sick for -a wooded country. These wonderful -ranges of mountains and these -hills are all very well in their way, -and one learns to love them tremendously, -but one longs for the trees. -And yet when Jesse Holles went -north and came back again, he said -he was glad to see the barren mountains -once more. I wonder what the -girl will think of it all, and how she -will take to the life. The women -suffer miseries of home-sickness.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>He stood thinking a while, and -there was an expression of great sadness -on his face.</p> - -<p>“My own little sweetheart would -have pined out here,” he said softly; -“I can bear the loneliness, but I -could not have borne hers. Poor old -Bob,” he said regretfully, “I almost -wish he had not sent for her: it is -such a risk in this land. I don’t -wonder he is anxious.”</p> - -<p>He glanced again at the threatening -clouds, and went back to the -house, took off his coat, turned up -his sleeves, and began the preparations -for the evening meal. He laid -the cloth, changed the flowers several -times before they smiled to his satisfaction, -and polished the knives and -forks. He brought in some logs of -wood and some sumac-roots, made a -fire, and blew it up with the bellows.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p045.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“BEN LIT THE LANTERN, AND STATIONED HIMSELF<br /> -OUTSIDE WITH IT.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>Suddenly the frail little frame-house -was shaken by a heavy gust -of wind; and when the shock had -passed, every board creaked and -quivered. Nellie got up from her -warm place near the fire, and stalked -about uneasily.</p> - -<p>“Damnation!” said Ben. “The -storm is working up. If they’d only -come before it is any worse.”</p> - -<p>It was now seven o’clock and pitch -dark. Ben lit the lantern, and stationed -himself outside with it. The -time seemed endless to him, but at -last he heard the music of wheels, -and in a few minutes the horse -dashed up the hill, and Robert’s -voice rang out lustily:</p> - -<p>“Here she is, Ben!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, here I am,” said Robert’s -wife.</p> - -<p>“Just in time to escape the storm,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -said Ben, coming forward to greet -her, and helping her out of the -buggy. “I’ve been awfully anxious -about you both. I’ll take the horse -down to the barn, Bob, and then -I’ll fly up to see about the dinner. -Leave everything to me.”</p> - -<p>So whilst Ben was unhitching the -horse, Robert led his wife into the -little house, and he was transfigured -with pride and pleasure when she -glanced round and said:</p> - -<p>“Why, how cosy you’ve made it! -And how cheerful the fire looks! -And this dear dog ready to be so -friendly. It looks like a real little -home—doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p>In that one moment all Robert’s -doubts and misgivings were set at -rest, and when Ben hurried up from -the barn, the husband and wife were -kneeling down and toasting themselves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -before the fire, the dog nestling -up near them, and he heard Robert -asking questions about the dear old -country, and Hilda answering in a -voice which struck on Ben’s sensitive -ear as being somewhat harsh and -strident. He had only time to glance -hastily at her as, intent on serving up -a dainty little dinner as quickly as -possible, he passed into the kitchen. -At last he brought it in triumphantly, -hot steak cooked as only Ben knew -how, and fried potatoes and chicken -salad, and the most fragrant coffee. -Finally, overcome with his exertions -and his anxiety and his day’s working -and waiting, with a sigh of relief he -sank back in his chair and twirled his -great moustaches.</p> - -<p>“You have been such a good friend -to Bob,” said Hilda, smiling at him. -“I know all about it.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>“No, no,” said Ben, with his easy -grace, “I’ve only helped to get him -through the time until you came out -to him. The poor wretch needed -cheering up. But he does not look -much like a poor wretch now.”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed,” laughed Robert, -“and I don’t feel like one.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve often been a great anxiety -to me,” said Ben, turning to -Hilda. “When the mails have been -delayed and your letters have not -come at their appointed minute, then -I have had to suffer. And once you -were ill. During that period I was -not allowed any peace of mind.”</p> - -<p>“In fact, you have had bad times -on my account,” she said brightly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span></p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p051.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“AND HE HEARD ROBERT ASKING QUESTIONS.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - - -<p>“Well, I could not bear to see -him suffer,” Ben said, laying his arm -on Robert’s shoulder.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> “He is a -terrible fellow at taking things to -heart. There is no doing anything -at all with him.”</p> - -<p>“He has suffered quite unnecessarily,” -Hilda answered, with that -peculiar harsh ring in her voice which -again jarred on Ben’s sensitiveness. -“I am one of the strong ones of the -earth.”</p> - -<p>And she looked it. Though tired -after the long journey from England, -she had the appearance of being in -excellent health. Her complexion -was dark, and her eyes were brown, -but without any softness in them. -She was decidedly good-looking, -almost beautiful indeed, and strikingly -graceful of form and stature. -But she impressed Ben as being quite -unsympathetic, and all the time he -was washing up the tea things and -tidying the little kitchen, he found -himself harping on this note alone.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>And when he had said good-bye -to Robert and Hilda, and was hurrying -home on his pretty little mare -Fanny, he gave vent, in his usual -musical fashion, to a vague feeling of -disappointment, and kept up a soft -accompaniment of swearing to the -howling of the wind.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br /> - - -<small>GROWING REGRETS</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was now three days since -Hilda’s arrival; and the storm, -which had been threatening for so -long, had not yet broken loose. -Like all the ranchers, Robert was -anxious for a good deluge, but he -was relieved that there was a little -delay about it, for he wanted Hilda -to enjoy a few days of outdoor life, -and see all he had to show her on -the ranch and in the garden. He -seemed like a different man now that -she had come out to him; and every -tiny mark of appreciation which she -gave, made him lift his head higher,<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -and encouraged him to step more -firmly over the ground. The labour, -the anxiety, and the risk of his enterprise -were all forgotten in the intense -pride and pleasure with which -he showed her what he had been doing -to ensure success. He told her, -with quiet confidence in the ultimate -truth of his words, that his lemons -could not possibly be a failure.</p> - -<p>“You will hear many people say -that there is no money in fruit-farming,” -he said to her when he was taking -her over the ranch and pointing -out to her his pet trees. “But you -need not be concerned about that. -The big ranches often fail because -they are too unwieldy, and some of -the small ranches fail because they -are not properly looked after, and -because their owners have not enough -capital to spend money on them, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -to wait patiently for a good return. -But a ranch of twenty-five acres carefully -tended in every particular cannot -help being a success. Those are -my best trees yonder. They are -specially fine, and I expect to net -two dollars a box on them next year. -I can’t tell you how much care I -have given to them, but you see for -yourself that it was well worth while.”</p> - -<p>Hilda tried to make some appropriate -remark, but the trees did not -really arouse any interest in her: she -was bitterly disappointed with them, -for, in spite of all Robert’s letters -telling her that the orchard was only -in its infancy, she had expected to -see great groves of trees covered with -lemons and oranges. And really -until one learns to take a delight -in the quick growth, one may well -feel disappointment and perhaps<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -contempt. Some amusing criticisms, -with a spice of derision in them, rose -to her lips, but she managed to shut -them off, and followed her husband -silently up the trail which led to his -reservoir, on which he set great store.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, “this is a thoroughly -satisfactory piece of work. -It cost a good deal of money and -labour, but it is splendidly strong. -In this dry land, it is such an immense -advantage to be able to store -water.”</p> - -<p>Hilda praised the reservoir, and -suggested they should grow some -trees there.</p> - -<p>“Yes, indeed,” Robert said eagerly, -“we will have trees everywhere, and -you shall choose them and settle -where they are to be planted.”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you plant some -shade trees at once?” she asked.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -“The whole place is so terribly bare. -I could not have believed that such -a barren spot existed anywhere outside -a desert.”</p> - -<p>Robert’s face fell, and Hilda -added quickly:</p> - -<p>“But these are grand old mountains -around us, and I daresay one -gets accustomed to the bareness.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” he answered, “and in -time one almost learns to think it -beautiful.”</p> - -<p>“Beautiful, no,” she replied decidedly, -“but perhaps tolerable.”</p> - -<p>“Every day,” he said, almost -pleadingly, “you will see a difference -in the scenery. If we have -some more rain, as we shall do -shortly, you will see the green -springing up everywhere. The most -dried-up-looking corner will suddenly -become jewelled with wild-flowers.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -In about three weeks’ time -that little hill yonder above our -ranch will be covered with scented -yellow lilies. Down in the valley -you will find green enough to satisfy -the hungriest eye, and up on the -mountains where you must go on -horseback, the brushwood is coming -on splendidly, and all sorts of lovely -flowers and shrubs are springing up. -And there you will have a grand -view of the surrounding mountains, -and the Pacific. You will even feel -the sea-breeze, and at times you will -hear the sound of the waves.”</p> - -<p>He paused for a moment, and -Hilda said brightly:</p> - -<p>“I shall enjoy the riding immensely. -Can I begin soon?”</p> - -<p>“At once,” he answered proudly -again. “Come and make friends -with Bessie, and see the side-saddle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -which I bought for you the other -day. It’s a Mexican one, and I -think it is the safest for this country.”</p> - -<p>He had taken thought for her in -every way, and she could not but -notice it and be grateful for it; and -as the days went on, she grew more -conscious of the evidences of his -kindness, and all the more anxious -to do her part conscientiously. She -threw herself into work to which she -had been totally unaccustomed all -her life, and for which she had -no liking; but because she had a -strong will and a satisfaction in doing -everything well, she made astonishing -progress, illustrating the truth -sometimes disputed by ungenerous -critics, that a good groundwork of -culture and education helps and does -not hinder one in the practical and -unpoetical things of life.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>But nevertheless she recognised -that she had made a great mistake. -Looking back now she wondered -why in the name of heaven she had -ever come out to this distant land, -and got herself entangled in a life -which could never be congenial to -her; for once there, and having seen -her surroundings and her limitations, -she realised that it could never be -attractive to her. She had loved -Robert as well as she could love any -one, and when his health broke down -and he had to leave England, she -continued her engagement as a matter -of course, and his letters of love -and longing were acceptable to her, -not involving any strain on her part, -nor any pressing need of arranging -definitely for the future. So she -drifted on, and when at last the question -arose of her joining him, her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -relations and friends used every opposition -to prevent her. It was -pointed out to her that after a London -life full of many interests and -possibilities and actualities, ranching -in Southern California would be -simply madness. She had been -accustomed to companions, men and -women of a certain amount of culture -and refinement. How would -she manage, bereft of all these advantages? -The strenuous opposition -with which she met, and the -solid arguments advanced against her -leaving the old country, stimulated -her desire to go; and a sudden wave -of loyalty and pity for that lonely -rancher who was counting on her -help and companionship, confirmed -her in her intentions. She felt that -if she had not been intending to -keep her promise, she ought at least<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -to have let him know the drift of -her mind. This, and a very decided -inclination for travel and adventures, -settled the matter.</p> - -<p>So she came.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p065.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“SHE SAT ON THE LITTLE VERANDAH.”</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And this afternoon, when she sat -on the little verandah, resting after -her housework, and watching Robert -cultivating the eight-acre piece on the -hill-slope, she realised that she had -been mad. He paused for a moment -and waved to her, and she waved -back listlessly. She looked at the -rich upturned soil, of chocolate brown, -and the formal rows of lemon-trees; -at the stretch of country all around -her, with scarcely a sign of human -habitation; at the great mountains, -uncompromisingly stern and barren -of everything except stone and brush. -She watched the pointer Nellie going -in front of the little grey team and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -encouraging them to do their work -well. She glanced upwards and -noticed the majestic flight of the -turkey buzzards, and now she was -attracted by the noise of a hummingbird -who came to visit her fragrant -honeysuckle creeper, and then sped -on his way. Everything seemed so -still and lifeless. There were no -familiar noises such as greet one in -the tiniest village in the old country. -There was no pulsation nor throb of -life. There was nothing to stimulate,—nothing -in the circumstances of -everyday life, nor in the scenery. -With the exception of her husband, -there was no one with whom to speak -all through the living hours of the -day.</p> - -<p>And this was what she had chosen -of her own free will. She had deliberately -thrown up a life full of interests<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -and distractions, and had been mad -enough to exchange it for this.</p> - -<p>She was fond of music, and would -hear none.</p> - -<p>She was fond of theatres, and she -had cut herself off from them.</p> - -<p>As for books—well, she could get -them here; but meanwhile Meredith’s -“Lord Ormont and his Aminta” lay -unopened by her side, and the current -number of the “Century” was thrown -down and carelessly crumpled. But -as she stooped to pick it up, she was -ashamed to think how ungrateful she -was for all Robert’s kindness. He -had filled a little book-shelf with -new books for her; he had subscribed -for several of the best magazines; he -had sent for a tuner from town to -tune the ear-trumpet lady’s piano. -She scarcely cared to read, and she -had not touched the piano. A feeling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -of tenderness and gratitude came -over her, and she sprang up, and -trudged over the fields to speak a -few words with her husband. His -face brightened when he saw her, -and he gave her a joyous welcome. -Nellie ran to greet her, and the horses -looked round inquiringly. For the -moment she felt really proud and -happy.</p> - -<p>“You must let me help you all I -can,” she said gently. “I am so -strong, and able to do so much. You -look dreadfully tired.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s nothing,” he said, -smiling, and wiping his forehead. -“Everything seems different since -you came.”</p> - -<p>“If you teach me, I can do the -pruning,” she said; “I believe I -could cultivate too.”</p> - -<p>“I believe you could,” he answered,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -“and perhaps you think too -that I am going to allow you to dig -the basins for the irrigating during -the summer. But you shall do the -pruning, and next year, you know, -there will be the curing of the -lemons.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Next year</i>,” she repeated slowly, -and her heart sank once more.</p> - -<p>“I’ve half decided to plant some -walnuts,” he said. “They don’t -bear for about nine years, but then -they are very profitable.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Nine years</i>,” she echoed, and a -throb of pain passed through her.</p> - -<p>But at that moment Ben Overleigh -came cantering over the ranch, -with a rifle in front of him and some -quail which he had just shot.</p> - -<p>“This is my first offering of -quail,” he said, turning to Hilda, -“and I’ve shot them with this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -pretty little rifle which Jesse Holles -is sending as a present to you. He -is too shy to give it to you himself. -Though you won’t think him shy -when you see him.”</p> - -<p>“And when shall I see him?” -asked Hilda, who had brightened up -considerably, and looked beautiful.</p> - -<p>“This evening,” answered Ben, -glancing at her admiringly. “The -fact is, I came to tell you that in -about an hour’s time you may expect -seven callers. Lauderdale and -Graham and Holles and some of the -other boys intend to pay you their -respects this evening. They fear -lest they may be prevented later on -by the storm which I’ve prophesied -for the last fortnight, and which I -shall continue to prophesy with unfailing -persistence until it comes. -You will find Holles most amusing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -if he is in good form. But he -has been quite ill for the last three -weeks, and is only just himself again. -He made nine wills and wrote six -farewell letters in twenty-one days, -and he said they helped him to recover. -He looked in at my place -this morning and asked for a tie, and -Graham pleaded for a collar, and -when I heard why they wanted these -articles of luxury, I thought I had -better come a little earlier and warn -you, as seven visitors are rather a large -bunch of grapes, even in California.”</p> - -<p>“Then we will go in and get ready -for them,” Hilda said, delighted at the -prospect of company. “How nice of -Mr. Holles to send the rifle! May -I fire a shot now, Mr. Overleigh? -I should so much like to try.”</p> - -<p>He showed her how to use the -rifle, loaded it for her, and nodded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -in approval to Robert when she took -a steady aim at a mark which they -had placed for her, and hit it.</p> - -<p>“She’ll do,” said Ben, cheerily; -“we can send her out to shoot the -deer in the mountains, Bob. Perhaps -she will have better luck than -we do.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” laughed Robert, as he -turned the horses homeward. “Be -sure and ask Holles, Hilda, what is -the greatest number of deer he has -ever shot!”</p> - -<p>Hilda promised not to forget, and -hurried into the house to make her -preparations for the guests.</p> - -<p>“It will rain to-night,” Ben said; -“it can’t help itself any longer. Just -look yonder.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I believe you are right at -last,” answered Robert, unhitching -the horses from the cultivator.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br /> - - -<small>THE STORM</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE seven callers came as threatened, -and Hilda began to -think that perhaps there was some -kind of companionship possible in -the wilds of Southern California. -She was delighted with these young -English fellows, and sat in the midst -of them, laughing at their fun, listening -to their stories, and answering -their eager questions about the -dear old country for which they all -longed.</p> - -<p>“How does the Strand look?” -asked Graham.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>“Does Tottenham Court Road -seem the same as ever?” asked -Lauderdale.</p> - -<p>“Has Park Lane changed at all?” -asked Holles, putting on airs of great -superiority.</p> - -<p>In spite of his recent illness, he -was in capital spirits, and seemed to -be much liked by his companions. -“Yes, I’ve been quite ill,” he said, -in answer to Hilda’s inquiries; “but -Lauderdale nursed me beautifully, -and made me drink about a dozen -bottles of Elliman’s embrocation, -and then I got well enough to write -several parting letters to my friends -in England, and to make my will. -And that’s a very puzzling thing to -do satisfactorily when you have many -valuable things to leave. I left my -pipe first to Lauderdale, then to -Graham, then to Bob, and then to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> -Ben Overleigh, and finally I kept it -for myself!”</p> - -<p>“You ought to have kept your -rifle for yourself,” Hilda said graciously, -“though I am glad you did -not. I am delighted to have it from -you, and hope to do it justice.”</p> - -<p>“A rifle is a very handy thing to -have in this country,” he answered. -“One may want it at any moment -for a coyote, or a jack-rabbit, or a -Mexican.”</p> - -<p>“Or perhaps a deer!” suggested -Hilda, slyly.</p> - -<p>They all laughed at that, and Jesse -Holles as heartily as any one, and -then Ben said he thought they ought -to be starting home. It was evident -that none of them wanted to go, and -Holles, being particularly fond of -music, was looking at the piano; -but Ben seemed anxious about the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -weather, and insisted on their leaving -at once with him. They called him -the High Binder, explaining to Hilda -the exact meaning of a High Binder, -and his mysterious and subtle influence -over his Chinese compatriots, -whom he ruled with an iron rod.</p> - -<p>“Just see how we all quail before -him,” said Holles, who had been -talking incessantly the whole evening; -“and no doubt you’ve observed -how speechless we are in his presence. -He has only to wag his pig-tail and -we go flat on our faces at once.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be such a confounded ass,” -said Ben, laughing. “Come along, -boys.”</p> - -<p>“All right, man alive,” said Holles, -“but at least let me finish this piece -of cake first. We don’t get cake -like this at your place, Ben. Do you -know, Mrs. Strafford, when we want<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -to kill coyotes, we get Ben to make -us some of his best sponge-rusks. -That does the trick at once!”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you give them to -the deer also?” suggested Hilda, mischievously. -There was a shout of -laughter at this, and Robert lit the -lantern, and opened the door.</p> - -<p>“It’s raining, boys,” he said; -“and what’s more, it is coming on -harder.”</p> - -<p>“Hurrah for California!” sang -out Graham; “we shall all make -our fortunes.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Robert Strafford, “we -shall all be saved if the country gets -a thorough good drenching. But -you will be pretty well sprinkled by -the time you reach home.”</p> - -<p>“Never mind,” replied Holles, -cheerily. “I’m the only delicate -one, you know, and the others won’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -take much harm, being of coarser -fibre. And I have nothing on to -spoil except the High Binder’s tie, -which I will put in my pocket. So -good-night, Mrs. Strafford, and three -cheers for yourself and Bob and dear -old England.”</p> - -<p>The High Binder and the seven -other callers gave three ringing cheers -and cantered off to their homes. -Long before they reached their destinations, -the storm broke forth with -unbridled fury. The rain poured -down in torrents, gaining in force -and rage every moment. The wind -suddenly rose, and all but swept away -the riders and their horses, and -shook to its very foundation the -frail little frame-house where Robert -and Hilda were watching by the -log-fire, listening to the cracking and -creaking and groaning of the boards.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -The wind rose higher and higher. -It seemed as though the little house -must assuredly be caught up and -hurled headlong. Now and then -Nellie got up and howled, and Hilda -started nervously.</p> - -<p>“It’s all right,” Robert said reassuringly. -“The wind will soon -drop, and as for the rain, we have -wanted it badly. We should all -have been ruined this year, if the -wet season had not set in. It’s -all right, Nell. Lie down, old girl.”</p> - -<p>But the wind did not drop. Hour -after hour it raged and threatened, -and together with the tremendous -downpouring of the rain, and the -rushing of the water in streams over -the ground, made a deafening tumult.</p> - -<p>“I wish we had kept those boys,” -Robert said once or twice. “It is -not fit for any one to be out on such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -a night. When these storms come,” -he added, “I always feel so thankful -that Ben urged me to buy land -on the hill-slopes rather than in the -valley. Three years ago there was -fearful damage done in the valley. -One of the ranchers had eight acres -of olives completely ruined by the -floods from the river. You must -see the river to-morrow. You saw -it yesterday, didn’t you? Well, -you will not recognise it after a day -or two if the rain continues. And -from the verandah you will hear it -roaring like the ocean.”</p> - -<p>Later on he said:</p> - -<p>“I rather wish I hadn’t filled -up my reservoir so full with flume-water. -It never struck me to make -allowances for the rain coming, idiot -that I am. But there is a good deal -of seepage going on, and I thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -I might as well fill it up to just -below the overflow.”</p> - -<p>“You are not anxious about it?” -she asked kindly.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” he said, cheerfully; -“but I shall go out early to-morrow -morning, and raise the flood-gate, -just to be well on the safe side. -One can’t be too careful about reservoirs. -They are the very devil if -the dam bursts. But mine is as -solid as a fortress. I’d stake my -life on that. I worked like ten navvies -over that earth dam. I used to -feel rather like that man in Victor -Hugo’s ‘Toilers of the Sea.’ Do -you remember how he slaved over -his self-imposed task?”</p> - -<p>“Poor old Bob,” she said, bending -over him, and speaking in a -gentler voice than was her wont, -“and you are not in the least fit for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -such hard work. I believe you have -worn yourself out; and all for me, -and I, if you only knew, so little -worthy of it.”</p> - -<p>“I wanted our little ranch to be -just as compact as possible,” he said, -“so that I might offer to you the best -I could in this distant land. As for -myself, I am perfectly well, now -you’ve come out to me: only I am -always wishing that I could have -made a home for you in the old -country. I never forget it whatever -I am doing.”</p> - -<p>He seemed to be waiting for an -answer, but Hilda was silent, and -when at last she spoke, it was about -her seven callers, and the next moment -there was a terrible blast of -wind, and the door was blown in and -hurled with a crash to the ground. -After that, their whole attention was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -taken up in trying to keep out the -rain, and in securing the windows, -until at last, worn out with their long -watch, they slept.</p> - -<p>Hilda dreamed of England, and -of everything she had left there. -She dreamed that she heard Robert -saying: “<i>And next year there will -be the lemons to be cured.</i>” “<i>Next -year</i>,” she answered, and her heart -sank.</p> - -<p>Robert dreamed of the eight acres -of olives ruined by the floods three -years ago, and of his own ranch situated -so safely on the hill-slope, and -of his reservoir. He dreamed he -was still working at it, still strengthening -the earth dam, and still scraping -out the cañon so as to have -room for about five hundred thousand -gallons of water.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p085.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“HE LIFTED A PIECE OF IRON PIPING.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“<i>It’s nearly done</i>,” he said; “<i>about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -three weeks more, and then I’m through -with it</i>.”</p> - -<p>At six o’clock he woke up with a -start, and found the storm unabated -in strength and fury. Suddenly he -remembered about his reservoir, and, -seized with a sudden panic, he flung -out of the house, and, fighting his -way through the rain and wind, -crossed the ranch, and tore up the -trail which led to the reservoir.</p> - -<p>For one second he stood paralysed.</p> - -<p>The water was just beginning to -flow over the earth dam. He had -come too late, and he knew it. He -lifted a piece of iron piping which -lay there at hand, and he tried to -knock out the flood-gate, but the -mischief was done. In less than ten -minutes, the water had cut a hole -five feet deep in the dam, and was -rushing down the ranch, carving for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -itself a gully which widened and deepened -every second.</p> - -<p>In the blinding rain and wind -Robert Strafford stood helpless and -watched the whole of the dam give -way: he watched the water tearing -madly over the best part of his -ranch: he saw numbers of his choicest -lemon-trees rooted up and borne -away: he saw the labour of weeks -and months flung, as it were, in his -face. And he was helpless. It was -all over in half an hour, and still he -lingered there, as though rooted to -the spot,—drenched by the rain, -blown by the wind, and unconscious -of everything except this bitter disappointment. -But when his mind -began to work again, he thought of -Hilda: how it was through him that -she had left her home and her surroundings -and all her many interests,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -and had come to him to this far-off -country, to this loveless land, to this -starved region—yes, to this starved -region, where people were longing -and pining for even a passing throb -of the old life, for even a glance at -a Devonshire lane or a Surrey hill; -for some old familiar scene of beauty -or some former sensation of mental -or artistic satisfaction; for something—no -matter what—but just something -from the old country which -would feel like the touch of a loved -hand on a bowed head. He was holding -out his arms, and his heart and -whole being were leaping towards the -blessèd land which had nurtured him: -even as tiny children cry out for -their mother, and can be comforted -and satisfied by her alone. Ah, his -thoughts of, and his desires for his -old home, had broken down the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> -barrier of control, and were tearing -wildly onwards like that raging torrent -yonder. And the more he desired -the dear old country and thought -of it, all the more bitterly did he reproach -himself for taking Hilda away -from it, for urging her to come and -cut herself off from the things most -worth having in life—<i>and for what</i>? -To share his exile, and his loneliness, -and his failure. That was all he -had to offer her, and he might have -known it from the beginning, and if -he could not save himself, at least -he might have spared her.</p> - -<p>At last he turned away suddenly, -and, battling with the storm, made -his way home. Hilda ran out to -meet him.</p> - -<p>“Robert,” she said, seeing his pale -face, “I’ve been so anxious—what -has happened?—what is the matter?”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>“Do you hear that noise?” he -said excitedly; “do you hear the -roar of that torrent? It is our reservoir -let loose over our ranch. How -do you like having married a man -who has failed in everything?”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br /> - - -<small>DOWN BY THE RIVER</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">ALL through that most miserable -day Hilda gave him the best -of her sympathy and kindness; but -even her best was poor of quality and -scant of quantity, and it did not avail -to rouse him from his despair. She -was too new to Californian life to understand -the whole meaning of the -morning’s misfortune, and apart from -this, her power of comforting lacked -the glow and warmth of passionate -attachment. Still, she gave to her -uttermost farthing, but nothing she -could do or say had the effect of -helping him. He crouched by the<span class="pagenum3" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -fire, a broken man seemingly, now -and again piling on the sumac-roots, -and sometimes glancing at her as she -passed to and fro busy with the affairs -of their little household. She served -the mid-day meal and urged him to -break his fast, but he shook his head, -and drew nearer to the fire. At about -three o’clock, there was a lull in the -storm, and the rain ceased.</p> - -<p>Hilda, who was feeling utterly -wretched and perplexed, went out to -the verandah and listened to the roar -of the river, and saw a silver streak -in the valley which two days before -had been perfectly dry. She had -laughed when she was told that the -sandy waste yonder was the great -river. Now, looking at it, she was -seized with a strong desire to go down -and stand near it, and she was just debating -in her mind whether she could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -leave Robert, and whether she could -get through the day without some -kind of distraction,—no matter what, -but something to brace her up a little,—when -she saw a figure coming up -the hill, and at once recognised Ben -Overleigh. A strong feeling of relief -and hope took possession of her. -Ben would stay with Robert whilst -she went out and saw what there was -to be seen, and then she would come -back refreshed in mind and body. -He would know how to comfort -Robert, and as for herself, she was -quite conscious that she brightened -up in his presence, and felt less hopeless -too about this lonely ranch life -when she remembered that he was a -neighbor and their friend.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said, greeting her, “and -so you’ve seen a typical Californian -rain-storm. I tell you, you are lucky<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -to be on the hill. I shouldn’t wonder -if there was a great deal of damage -done in the valley. And the -storm is not over yet. This is only -a lull, but I thought I would just -come over to see how things have -been going with you. Where is -Bob?”</p> - -<p>“Bob is inside, crouching over the -fire,” she said.</p> - -<p>“He should take you down to see -the river,” Ben said. “It is a tremendous -sight.”</p> - -<p>“I half thought of going by myself,” -she said gloomily, “if only for -the sake of a little distraction. Bob -is in trouble; we are both in trouble. -The reservoir burst this morning.”</p> - -<p>“Good heavens!” said Ben, “and -you talk of it as though your band-box -had burst, and that was all.”</p> - -<p>She darted an indignant glance at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -him as he opened the door hastily -and went into the house. He laid -his hands heavily on Bob’s shoulders -and said: “Cheer up, old man. -I’ve come to smoke a pipe with -you.”</p> - -<p>“Ben, old fellow,” Robert Strafford -said, looking up, and feeling at -once the comfort of his presence.</p> - -<p>There was no talk between them: -they sat together by the fireside, -whilst Hilda lingered outside on the -verandah.</p> - -<p>At last Robert spoke.</p> - -<p>“My best trees are gone,” he said -half-dreamily; “the best part of my -ranch is ruined.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll redeem it,” Ben answered, -“you and I together.”</p> - -<p>Robert shook his head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span></p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p097.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“THERE WAS NO TALK BETWEEN THEM.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - - -<p>“There’s no redeeming it,” he -said quietly; “I’ve made another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -failure of my life, and dragged the -girl into it this time. And I can’t -forgive myself. And she has been -so good and patient all through this -wretched day. She has not come -out to anything very gay, has she?”</p> - -<p>For the moment Ben’s thoughts -turned sympathetically to Hilda, and -he regretted his hasty words. No; -Bob was right: she had not come -out to anything very gay: a barren -life, a worn-out worker, and a ruined -ranch,—not a particularly sumptuous -marriage portion for any one.</p> - -<p>“I think I shall take her down to -the river,” he said suddenly. “She -half wanted to go, and it is not safe -for her alone.”</p> - -<p>Robert nodded as though in approval, -and showed no further interest -in outside things. Ben saw that -it was better to leave him alone, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -slipped out quietly, having asked no -questions about the reservoir. But -he soon saw for himself that the -finest part of Robert’s ranch was a -scene of desolation, and his heart -ached for his friend. Then he came -round to the honeysuckle verandah, -and saw Hilda still standing there. -She looked utterly listless and depressed.</p> - -<p>“May I take you down to the -river?” he asked, in his own kind -way. “Bob is better alone, and the -walk will do you good. Put on -some thick boots, for the mud is -something awful. You don’t mind -heavy walking?”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed,” she answered eagerly, -“I shall be glad to come.”</p> - -<p>In a few minutes they were making -their way down to the valley, -now sticking in the mud, and now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> -going valiantly onwards without interruption. -At first Ben could not -bring himself to speak of the trouble -which had befallen his friend; he felt -as though Hilda did not understand, -or as though she did not care. Yet -it was impossible that she did not -care. No, she was, so he argued, -probably one of those reserved characters, -who keep their emotions in -an iron safe, proof against all attacks. -But at last he could no longer keep -silent on the subject which was uppermost -in his thoughts.</p> - -<p>“It is a most disastrous affair, this -bursting of the reservoir,” he said. -“Bob slaved like a nigger at that -earth dam. I never saw any fellow -work so hard. And there never was -a doubt in our minds about it being -as firm as a rock. He has not told -me a word about it yet, and I did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -not like to ask. He will tell me in -his own time.”</p> - -<p>“He had filled the reservoir too -full,” Hilda said, in her grating voice. -“I can’t imagine why he did such a -ridiculous thing when he knew the -rain was coming. And then there -was some trouble about the flood-gate. -It would not act properly. -That is how it has occurred: at least -so he told me. Day after day he -put off looking after that flood-gate, -until it was too late. I am dreadfully -sorry about it all, but I cannot -think why he did not take proper -precautions. I would not say that to -him, of course, but it seems to me that -it might have been prevented if—”</p> - -<p>“If Bob had not been utterly -worn out,” said Ben, brusquely.</p> - -<p>“Well, it is altogether most unfortunate,” -she said indifferently.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>Ben glanced at her keenly, scarcely -knowing how to control his indignation -at her cold criticism of his friend. -He was trying to make out what -manner of woman she really was, -trying to divine what kind of heart -she had, and what degree of intelligence; -for she apparently did not -realise the seriousness of the disaster, -and talked of it as though it were -something outside her, in the consequences -of which she had no part.</p> - -<p>“I scarcely think this is the moment -for criticism,” he said suddenly; -“it is the moment for generous sympathy. -Bob will need everything we -can give him of help and kindness.”</p> - -<p>“Do you suppose I don’t know -that?” she asked coldly. “Do you -imagine that I am intending to make -things harder for him? What do -you suppose I am?”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>“I suppose you are what you are,” -Ben answered, in his quiet deliberate -way, “a new-comer to California, -ignorant of our lives out here, our -struggles, our weeks and months and -years of unaccustomed toil, and our -great anxieties, and our great disasters. -Your ranch is practically -ruined. All those trees would have -borne splendid lemons next year. -Bob has tended them with special -care. Now they are swept away. -The part of your ranch which is left -uninjured by the bursting of the reservoir, -is the newly planted part. -About two or three months ago, I -myself helped Bob to put in the trees. -Now he will have to begin all over -again. And it is just crushing.”</p> - -<p>He paused for a moment, and -even in the midst of his exasperation -at her indifference, and in spite of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -sympathy with Bob, he felt a rush of -kindly feeling towards her. There -she was amongst them in a foreign -land, with none of her own people -and none of her former interests,—no, -she had not come out to anything -very cheerful: and at twenty-four, -and three weeks married, one -has a right to expect some satisfaction -out of life.</p> - -<p>“But I am not a very gay companion,” -he said, with sudden cheeriness. -“You have had enough sadness -for one day, and here am I doing -my level best to add to it. Holles -always says that if I had chosen, I -could have written an admirable Book -of Lamentations.”</p> - -<p>“He is a most amusing boy,” -Hilda said, smiling in spite of herself.</p> - -<p>“One day when he is in good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -form you must make him tell you his -adventures on a fishing expedition,” -said Ben. “And some day you -must ask him about his famous -quarrel with the ear-trumpet lady, -your only neighbour. He does just -what he likes with us all, and we’re -ridiculously fond of him. That is -his place right over there, across the -river. And now what do you think -of the river? Stay, let me go first -and test the way across the meadows, -and you must follow exactly in my -footsteps, and we will get up to the -very bank of the torrent. Don’t -choose your own path. The ground -is fearfully soft, and you may be mired -if you’re not careful. Would you -rather not go?”</p> - -<p>“Indeed not,” she said eagerly; -“I am ready for anything.”</p> - -<p>She had forgotten all her troubles<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -and depression, and, buoyant with -vitality and eagerness, followed after -him, calling out sometimes when he -looked back, “I’m all right, Mr. -Overleigh.”</p> - -<p>At last they stood together by the -side of the river, and were able to -see the wholesale destruction which -the storm had wrought. Three -days ago there had been no water -in the river; now there was a raging -torrent, which was cutting down -the banks, tearing up the trees, and -bearing them away in fierce triumph.</p> - -<p>First the topmost branches of a -fine sycamore shuddered slightly; -then they trembled, and those who -were watching them, knew that the -tree was doomed. The roots cracked -and groaned, and something snapped. -And the tree fell. Perhaps there -was a moment of resistance even<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -then—but all in vain. The torrent -rushed with redoubled fury on -its victim, and whirled it away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p109.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“HILDA COULD NOT LEAVE THE SPOT.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> -<p>There is a sad fascination in watching -such a scene as this. You feel -you must wait to see whether that -tree yonder will be spared. You do -not think it possible that it too will -yield to the enemy. The others -went, but they were fragile and unstable. -This one surely will have -the strength to withstand all attacks. -You watch, and you turn away perhaps -to see the bank a few yards -farther down, cave in and disappear; -or it may be that you yourself have -to step back and save yourself from -slipping down with the ground which -has given way. You hear a crash—and -there is your tree fallen! You -feel like holding out your arms to -help a friend. You feel the despair<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -of knowing that you cannot help. -The torrent seizes your tree, attacks -it with overwhelming force, and -sweeps it onwards, onwards. And -you linger there, remembering sadly -that there is one tree less in a barren -land, where every green branch is -dearly prized; one tree less in that -belt of green in the valley, so soothing -and restful to the eye through -all the months of the year.</p> - -<p>Hilda could not leave the spot. -She was so excited and interested, -and so concerned at seeing the trees -rooted up, that Ben began to wonder -whether he would ever get her home -again; and indeed every moment -something fresh was occurring to attract -their attention. Now a window -and now a door tore past, and now -a great olive-tree, and now a pig, -and now a pump.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>“We must be starting for home,” -he said at last. “The storm will -be coming on again. Do you see -those threatening clouds yonder? -My word, there has been a tremendous -deal of damage done already, -and we’ve not finished with it yet. -I hope to goodness none of those -boys have suffered. Their land lies -low, and this river is cutting away -the country right and left.”</p> - -<p>She turned to him with sudden -eagerness.</p> - -<p>“It’s tremendously exciting,” she -said, clasping her hands over her -head, and drawing a long breath. -“If you have not seen anything of -the kind before, it works you up to a -terrible pitch. I don’t know exactly -what it makes one feel like: one does -not think of oneself or one’s own concerns: -one just watches and wonders.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>“Come,” he said, looking at her -with fresh interest, for her eagerness -and animation were giving an added -charm to her personality. “Come, -before we are caught by the rain. -Robert will be anxious.”</p> - -<p>“Robert will be anxious,” she -echoed dreamily, and at once the -brightness faded from her face. It -was as though some sudden remembrance -had quenched her vitality and -her interest. She followed Ben over -the meadows, and when they had -gained the road safely, she glanced -at the scene which they had left, -and then turned slowly homewards. -There was something in her manner -which forbade conversation, and Ben -walked by her side, twirling his great -moustaches, and wondering how things -would eventually work themselves -out between Robert and herself.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -His own feelings towards her this -afternoon were a curious mixture of -resentment and attraction. He was -almost angry with himself for being -attracted towards her, but he could -not help admiring her face and her -strength and her whole bearing. She -stalked by his side like a young -panther. She was as strong as he -was, stronger perhaps, and with more -vitality in her little finger than poor -old Bob in his whole tired body.</p> - -<p>At last she spoke.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Overleigh,” she said, “you -and Robert have been great friends -together for a long time now?”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” he answered brightly. -“This is the land of friendships, you -know.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad to hear it is the land -of something beautiful,” she said -bitterly.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>“Does it frown to you so very -much?” he asked kindly.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered almost fiercely. -“Terribly.”</p> - -<p>“But if we have a beautiful spring, -you will think differently of it,” he -said.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she replied, standing -still for the moment; “nothing could -make me like it. It isn’t only the -scenery—it’s everything: the isolation, -the fearful distance from home, -the absence of stimulus. One doesn’t -realise this at home. If one only -realised it, one would not come. -Nothing would make one come,” -she continued excitedly, “neither -love nor friendship, nor duty nor regret; -and as for ambition to carve -out a new career for oneself—good -heavens! if I were a man, I would -rather starve in my old career.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>Her thoughts, till now locked in -her heart, were leaping into freedom.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she said, “if you only -knew what a relief it is to me to speak -out to some one. I have been suffocated -these last days, and every -hour it has been getting worse. I’ve -written letters—oh, yes, I’ve written -letters and torn them up in despair. -The distance is so great, that it paralyses -one. You can’t send a chronicle -of misery six thousand miles. -It’s just absurd mockery to do it. -It’s only a caricature of your depression. -It helps you a little to write it, -and then you must tear it up at once, -and that is all the comfort you will -have out of it. Oh, it is better -than nothing: anything is better than -nothing, when you have to keep silent, -and when some one near you is watching -constantly for your look of approval<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -and waiting for your word of -approbation, and you cannot give -either. You are simply forced to be -silent. But when you are able to -speak out your real thoughts to a -human being, then you breathe again, -as I’m breathing now.”</p> - -<p>She paused, and Ben was silent too. -He did not know what to say.</p> - -<p>“But why, why do people come -here?” she continued; “what do -they find here to like? What do -they get in exchange for all they’ve -lost? Why, in the name of heaven, -did Robert settle in such a place?—why -did <i>you</i> choose to come here? -Are you going to stay here all your -lives? Tell me what it all means. -Tell me frankly and honestly whether -you care for your life here, and -whether you would not throw it up -to-morrow if you could.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>“I will tell you what it all means,” -said Ben, slowly; “it means that it’s -a land and a life for men, and not for -women. We men gain in every particular: -no more small clerkships for -us, no more imprisonment in airless -offices; but out-of-door freedom, and -our own lives to ourselves, and our -own land. That is what it all means -to us. To you women—well—”</p> - -<p>“Well?” she said impatiently.</p> - -<p>“To you women it is altogether -something different,” he continued, -“and unless you all know how to -love desperately, there is not much to -redeem the life out here for you.”</p> - -<p>She laughed bitterly.</p> - -<p>“No, apparently not much,” she -said. “So here, as everywhere, the -women come off the worst.”</p> - -<p>“It seems to be so,” he answered -reluctantly.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>“Unless we can manage to love -desperately,” she said, in bitter scorn, -“and then even Southern California -can become a paradise to us. Is that -what you think?”</p> - -<p>“I think that love and friendship -can make things easier, even on a -lonely ranch in Southern California,” -Ben replied.</p> - -<p>“The men are to have eternal freedom -from airless offices and small -clerkships, and to enjoy out-of-door -lives, and revel in the possession of -their ranches,” Hilda continued; -“and the women are to do work to -which they have never been accustomed -at home, are to drudge and -drudge day after day in an isolated -place without a soul to talk to, and -their only compensation is to love -desperately. A pretty picture indeed! -Oh, well, it is folly of me to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -talk of it, perfect folly, and to you of -all people, Bob’s friend.”</p> - -<p>“Better to Bob’s friend than to -Bob himself,” Ben said quietly.</p> - -<p>She glanced up at him. There -was something so soft in his voice -whenever he spoke of Robert. Hilda -was touched.</p> - -<p>“You are anxious on Robert’s behalf?” -she said.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered simply. “I -am.”</p> - -<p>They walked on in silence for a -few minutes.</p> - -<p>“You see, we have been such -close friends,” he said, “and I -nursed him through a bad illness, -and learned to look upon him as my -own property. He came into my -life, too, at a time when I was desolate. -The world seemed a desert -to me. But Bob held out his hand,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -and helped me along to a green -place. I have found many green -places since then.”</p> - -<p>“With such a close friendship -as that, you must surely resent -my presence out here,” Hilda said -tentatively.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said staunchly, “I resent -it most deeply, if you do not -make him happy.”</p> - -<p>Hilda smiled. She liked his candour; -she liked everything about -him.</p> - -<p>They had reached the road which -led up to her house.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” he said; “I won’t -come in just now. I must make -my way back whilst it is still fine. -Tell Bob I’ll be in to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>She stood watching him for a moment, -and then she went home.</p> - -<p>As she opened the door, her husband<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> -came forward to greet her, with -a smile of love and welcome on his -face. Everything was ready for her: -the cloth was laid, the food was -cooked, the kettle was boiling, there -were fresh flowers on the table.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Robert,” she said warmly, -“and you’ve done everything for -me, and you so tired with the day’s -trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Hush,” he said, smiling sadly, -“the day’s trouble is past.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br /> - - -<small>ATTRACTION AND REPULSION</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THERE were three days more -of incessant rain and wind, -and then the storm ceased, and the -sun shone brightly. On the morning -of the second fine day, a waggon -drove up to Hilda’s house, and -Holles got off, leaving Ben in charge -of the horses.</p> - -<p>“We called in to see if we could -do anything for you in the village,” -he said, when Hilda opened the door -to him.</p> - -<p>“I should be ever so much obliged -if you would bring me a sack of -flour,” she said; “I have just come<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -to the end of my supply. Robert -did not want to send our horses in -yet. He says the roads are not -safe.”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t suppose they are,” -said Holles. “But if you had been -living on preserved pine-apples and -empty coal-oil tins for the last week -or ten days, you would be willing to -risk a good deal for the sake of some -flour or a piece of Porter House -steak. We fellows over the river -have been starving. Empty coal-oil -tins and preserved pine-apples -are not very fattening, are they? -But there, I mustn’t grumble. We -managed to get over to Ben one -day, and he gave us one of his skinniest -fowls in exchange for a large -jar of my best marmalade. There -was nothing on the fowl; but there -never is anything on Ben’s fowls, so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> -we weren’t disappointed. Only for -goodness’ sake don’t tell that to him. -He’s awfully touchy on the subject!”</p> - -<p>Hilda laughed, and asked about -the damages done by the storm on -the other side of the river.</p> - -<p>“Graham has come off very badly,” -Holles answered. “His house was -taken clean away, and three acres of -his best olives are completely ruined. -We have some fearful cuts on our -land, and the poor devil of a Chinaman -who had his kitchen-garden half -a mile away from our place has lost -everything, cabbages, asparagus, pig-tail, -and all. Graham is living with -us just now, and he says he must -have something to eat to keep up -his spirits. So I said I would risk -my valuable life for the good of the -whole community. The waggon and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -horses are Ben’s. After I got across -the river, I went and stormed at him -until he hitched up. He did not -want to come with me, and began -swearing at me in that poetical fashion -of his, until I referred casually to the -skinny fowls raised on his ranch, and -then he said: ‘Hold hard, Jesse, I’ll -come with you.’ So we are off together, -and if you do not hear anything -more of us, you will know that -we have found a muddy grave!”</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” Hilda said. “I hope -you will come safely back, bringing -my flour, and the mail. And some -day I want you to tell me about -your experiences with the ear-trumpet -lady.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” sang out Holles, -cheerily. “Good-bye.”</p> - -<p>He stood for a moment, looking -down like a shy boy.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>“We fellows are all so sorry about -the reservoir,” he said kindly. “If -there is anything we can do to help -old Bob, we’re all ready and willing.”</p> - -<p>He was off quickly after that, and -Hilda watched him jump into the waggon -and take possession of the reins. -Then he cracked the big black snake, -and started away in grand style.</p> - -<p>“Confound you, Holles!” Ben -said, as they rattled over the roads. -“Do drive carefully. You will be -landing us in one of those holes; -I’ll take the lines. I don’t want -the waggon smashed up, and the -horses lamed.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, old man,” Holles replied -cheerfully. “I’ll promise to be -careful, but I cannot possibly let you -drive. I always feel like going to my -own funeral when you handle the -whip. Here, get up, boys. Don’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -be frightened of the mud. We’re -not going to stick yet. Get up, boys! -But, by Jove, Ben, the roads are -heavy.”</p> - -<p>“They are not fit for travelling -yet,” Ben answered. “But you worried -me into coming. It is better to -give in to you and have peace.”</p> - -<p>“Grumble away as much as you -like,” Holles answered; “I would -rather have any amount of your -grumblings than one of your fowls. -What on earth do you do to your -fowls to turn them out so thin? You -might make your fortune by exhibiting -them. They’re quite unique!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t chatter so much, and look -out where you are going,” said Ben, -pretending not to notice Jesse’s chaff.</p> - -<p>Holles laughed, and drove on -silently for a few minutes. Then he -said:</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>“That’s a bad piece of luck about -Bob Strafford’s reservoir. Poor fellow! -He will take it dreadfully to -heart. And I am sorry for her too. -It must be lonely for her in this part -of the country.”</p> - -<p>Ben made no answer.</p> - -<p>“I can’t for the life of me understand -about women,” Holles continued. -“If I were a fine girl like -that, nothing on earth would induce -me to come out to this kind of -existence. Any one can see that she -is out of place here.”</p> - -<p>“The women have a bad time of -it in a new country,” Ben said slowly. -“If you talk to any one of them, it -is nearly always the same story, home-sickness -and desolation, desolation -and home-sickness. I remember last -year up north meeting such a handsome -woman. Her husband had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -made quite a good thing out of Lima -beans, and they had everything they -wanted. But she told me that she -did not know how to live through the -first ten years of home-sickness.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a cheerful prospect for -Mrs. Strafford,” said Holles.</p> - -<p>“She will probably work her -way through, as they all do,” answered -Ben. “Women are wonderful -creatures.”</p> - -<p>“You always have something to -say for women,” said Holles. “You -ought to go back to the old country, -and help them get the suffrage and -all that sort of thing. You are lost -to them out here. How my maiden -aunt, who only lives for the Cause, -as she calls it, would adore you!”</p> - -<p>Ben smiled, and then said quietly:</p> - -<p>“Robert’s ranch has been put back -at least three years. I don’t suppose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -Mrs. Strafford realises that yet. But -it is very hard on her, and cruel for -him. He has worked untiringly, -poor chap, and used every means in -his power to reach success. Well, I -simply cannot speak of it, Jesse. It -chokes me. Look out now. There’s -something ahead. Don’t go an inch -out of the road, or we shall get -mired.”</p> - -<p>As they came nearer, they saw -that a cart, heavily laden with large -bales of hay, had stuck in the mud. -Two men were leading the horses -away.</p> - -<p>“Can we pass?” Ben asked of -them.</p> - -<p>“There’s just enough room to -manage it,” one of them answered.</p> - -<p>“We’ll try for it,” said Holles. -“Get up, boys!”</p> - -<p>They might have been able to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -creep past in safety, but that one of -the team shied at the bales of hay, -and swerved about three feet from -the road. In an instant, the horses -were plunging in the mud, and the -spring-waggon had sunk up to the -hubs. Ben took the black snake, -and whipped up the poor brutes, -and, together with Holles, shouted, -coaxed, and swore.</p> - -<p>But they had gone down so deep -that they could not free themselves. -They plunged and paddled and -struggled hard to drag out the waggon, -until at last one of them, more -faint-hearted than the other, gave up -trying, and began nibbling the grass.</p> - -<p>Ben and Holles jumped down, and -walked very gingerly over the soft -ground, which, in the neighbourhood -of the horses’ hoofs, was precisely -like pea-soup. They unhitched the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -animals, who then sprang forward -and gained firm footing once more. -There they stood tired and panting, -their long tails looking like house-painter’s -brushes steeped in rich -brown colouring.</p> - -<p>“I won’t be worried again into -bringing my team out so soon after -a storm,” said Ben, half humorously, -as he stroked both the horses. “They -don’t care about a mud bath.”</p> - -<p>“It won’t hurt them,” answered -Holles. “In fact it is a capital thing -for the health. My maiden aunt -used to go every year to Karlsbad -for the mud baths, and after the -tenth season she really began to feel -the benefit of them. All the same, -Ben, I am glad we had not to dig -out the horses. That is the very -devil. Now for the waggon. I have -a brilliant idea.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>He saw a rope in the hay cart, and -at once possessed himself of it. He -fastened it to the pole of their own -waggon, and attached it to the horses. -Then once more Ben cracked the -black snake, and the horses, being -now on solid ground, tugged and -tugged, and at last pulled out the -waggon.</p> - -<p>“You ought to thank your stars -you had me with you,” said Holles, -as they started on their way again. -“I’m so wonderfully ingenious.”</p> - -<p>He drove into the village in grand -style, much elated that he and Ben -had come off so easily. A great -many men were gathered together -at the grocery-store, which was also -the post-office, and horses and buggies -of every description were crowding -the road: most of the horses -looked as though they had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -mired, and several of them wore an -air of depression born of wounded -pride. Others obviously did not care -whether or not their appearance was -changed for the worse, and received -with stolid indifference the various -uncomplimentary remarks bestowed -on their tails.</p> - -<p>This was the first time of meeting -since the great storm, and every one -had something to tell about his own -experiences. There was anxiety expressed -about the enormous earth -dam of the Nagales reservoir which -supplied the Flume. If it had burst, -as some one reported, untold-of damage -would have been done; and -moreover, the whole water-supply for -the summer months’ irrigating would -have been wasted. This was a terrible -prospect, and especially so after -a long drought of exceptional severity.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -But the postmaster, who was busy -distributing the accumulation of several -days’ mail, said there was no -truth in the report.</p> - -<p>“I wish there was no truth in the -news about poor old Strafford’s dam,” -said some one. “Can’t you contradict -it, Overleigh?”</p> - -<p>Ben shook his head.</p> - -<p>“It is only too true,” he said -sorrowfully.</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s a miserable thing to -happen, and so soon after his marriage,” -said the postmaster. “Are -you taking his mail, Mr. Holles?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Holles. “Great -powers! Is this cart-load for him? -Oh, I see, it’s mostly for his wife. -What a stunning lot of papers! By -Jove! I wish my people would send -me some. The only thing I ever -get from the old country is ‘The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -Young Christian at Home.’ And -Lauderdale gets ‘The Christian -Household.’ No wonder we are -always depressed. Here, stay a moment, -Ben. I’m not through with -the shopping. I’ve nearly forgotten -Mrs. Strafford’s sack of flour. And -I want a tin of oysters. Graham -is so upset about losing his three -acres of olives, that he says the only -possible thing to help him is <i>boiled -oysters on toast</i>. Well, now I am -about ready.”</p> - -<p>With a greeting here and a nod -there, the two friends drove off. -Ben took the reins, and Holles sorted -the mail, and seemed greatly interested -in the outsides of Mrs. Strafford’s -newspapers and magazines, and -in their insides too, for he held each -one up to the light, looking through -it as though through a telescope.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>“Well, I wish they were for me,” -he said, as he pushed them away and -lit his pipe. “But I don’t grudge -them to her. I daresay she is terribly -home-sick for old England: and -the mail will cheer her up. Somehow -or other I feel sorry for her—don’t -you, Ben? What do you -think of her?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said Ben, slowly.</p> - -<p>And he spoke the truth. He had -thought of her constantly ever since -his long walk and talk with her. He -recalled her fierce distress, her sudden -breaking down of the barrier of -reserve, her cry of relief at being able -to speak openly about the isolation -and unattractiveness of the life and -land. He remembered every word -she had said; he remembered every -gesture. In turning the whole matter -over in his mind, he was torn by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -several conflicting feelings: sympathy -with her suffering, indignation with -himself for being able to sympathise -at all with her, resentment against -her for her cold criticism of Robert -in the very midst of his distress, a -growing suspicion that her nature had -nothing to offer of tender love and -passionate devotion, and an uneasy -consciousness that in spite of all this, -and in spite of his loyal and long -attachment to poor old Bob, there -was something about her personality -which attracted him immensely, something -gallant in her bearing, and something -irresistible in her appearance. -He could not but admire her, and he -hated himself for it.</p> - -<p>He did not listen to Jesse Holles’s -chatter, and he looked with indifference -at the country smiling now in -serene sunshine, and at the softened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -lights on the mountains. Holles -tried to draw his attention to a few -blades of grass springing up on the -roadside, and as they neared Robert’s -house, he glanced down into the -valley and exclaimed with delight -when he saw the river glistening like -gold. But Ben, usually so susceptible -to the beauties of nature, and so -enthusiastic about the varying charms -of this wild expanse of scenery which -he greatly loved, noticed nothing.</p> - -<p>Then the sound of a harsh voice -recalled him from his musings, and -there stood Hilda.</p> - -<p>“So you are back safely,” she said -brightly.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Holles, as he handed -out her letters and papers. “We -were badly mired going; but the -marvel is that we did not sink up -to our very eyes coming back, owing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -to the heavy weight of your mail. -But, oh, how I envy it! How I -should enjoy those papers! This -is not a hint. It is merely an emotional -observation, which I regret -already.”</p> - -<p>“You need not regret it,” laughed -Hilda. “I hope you will all read -my papers.”</p> - -<p>“We will try,” said Holles, -quaintly. “And here is the sack -of flour. I will just lift it into the -house. It is a perfectly lovely day. -Spring has come!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br /> - - -<small>THE GREAT MIRACLE</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">TO enjoy and appreciate to its -fullest possibilities a Californian -spring, let me choose, for one, -to live first through a Californian -summer. Then I can see the great -miracle with my own eyes, watch it -in its tiniest and swiftest workings, -and follow it with loving wonder.</p> - -<p>Now those plains and slopes yonder -lay bare and brown for many -months: everything on them was -scorched up and covered with thickening -dust. The sumac, to be sure, -kept its greenness, and even sent out -tender shoots, just to remind us perhaps -that Nature was not really dead,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -but slumbering beneath her ugly garment -of dust and withered growth, -even as elsewhere she takes her time -of rest beneath a lovelier covering of -purest white. The foothills were -barren of any kind of beauty: the -very stones and rocks wore an uncompromising -air of ugliness, and -the whole country seemed to be -without a single charm until the -hour of sunset, and then the mountains -were tinged with purple light, -and the great boulders themselves -appeared to have donned for the -moment a suit of purple heather.</p> - -<p>Ah, for the green pastures in other -countries then, for the deep lanes, -and forests of trees, for the brooks -and rivers, for the grass and ferns -and mosses, and for everything in -Nature soothing to the eye and -comforting to the spirit!</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>But as time went on, my friends, -regret and longing crept stealthily -away, and curiosity and wonder took -their place, for some change was -coming over the country, almost -imperceptible and most mysterious. -There was no rain, but the night-fogs -cast their moisture on the -dried-up bush and starved-looking -chaparral. Tiny leaves broke forth -and gave the first sure sign that the -long summer sleep was over. And -surely those hills had lost their -former crude brown colouring, and -had mellowed into tenderer tints. -There was a softening spell over -everything, and a strange sense of -unrest. The heavens looked troubled, -and threatened rain at last. But still -no rain came, and yet one might see -how the fresh growth was struggling -to assert itself unaided. Then, after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -many days of waiting, the rains -fell.</p> - -<p>And Nature began to work her -beautiful miracle. She had delayed -so long that she had to work quickly; -but those who cared enough, could -follow her in every detail.</p> - -<p>A few faint signs of grass on the -roadside, the palest shimmer of green -on the slopes, fine little leaves springing -from the ground, a tiny flower -here and there, and in the cañons -frail ferns.</p> - -<p>Then a luxuriance of green: vast -expanses of young fresh grain on the -foothills and in the great plain yonder: -stretches of emerald grass almost -dazzling in its intensity, with a -dash of even brighter colour, matched -only by the sea-moss on the rocks: -green fields of pasture in the valley, -and on the heights green brushwood<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -spread like a soft velvet mantle over -the distant ridges.</p> - -<p>And then the flowers springing up -in places where neither growth nor -life seems possible.</p> - -<p>Carpets of the little pink blossom -of the alfilaria, the first spring flower: -carpets of the golden violets charged -with delicious fragrance, and of the -shooting-stars, so dainty with petals -of white and delicate purple, and so -generous of sweetest perfume.</p> - -<p>Colours of every hue: masses of -wild hyacinths, pale lavender in -shade, thousands of yellow flowers -varying from a faint tint to a deep -orange: blue, pink, red, purple -flowers, any you will, and amongst -them delicate white ones of many -lovely designs.</p> - -<p>And the splendid poppy flaming -and flashing in the sunlight, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -rich indigo larkspur, and the vetches -and lupins and the lilies—how can -one tell of them all, and how can one -describe the gladness and gratitude -and wonder which their presence calls -forth?</p> - -<p>And then in cañons and timbered -hiding-places, known only to those -who pry and probe, many a curious -and lovely flower. And as the weeks -go on, fresh treasures, revealing -themselves in place of those which -have passed out of sight: glorious -monster poppies of crinkled white -satin, and yellow hairy mariposa -lilies, just like luscious yellow butterflies. -Vines and creepers trailing on -the ground, and festooning shrubs -and rocks; sweet scents wafted now -from here and now from there, and -now mingling together in fragrant -accord.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>And all these wonders tenfold -more wonderful because of that -burnt and dried-up soil from which -nothing beautiful seemed possible.</p> - -<p>But stay! The summer is here -once more. The foothills are brown -again: the slopes and plains where -the grain has been grown and cut, -have chosen for themselves the -colour of old gold plush. Brown -and old gold: surely a charming -combination.</p> - -<p>Is it that familiar scenes take on -an ever-increasing beauty? Is it -that the more intently we look, all -the more surely do we see fresh loveliness; -just as when gazing into the -heavens at eventide, first one star reveals -itself to us, and then another? -Or is it that we know spring will -come indeed, bringing those treasures -which enchanted us?</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br /> - - -<small>ROBERT TAKES HEART</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">SO every day the country put on -fresh beauties, and Robert was -a little comforted to see that Hilda -took pleasure in watching the quick -growth and marking the constant -change in the scenery.</p> - -<p>“When the wild-flowers are at -their best,” he said, “you will begin -to think that Southern California is -a beautiful land after all. That foot-hill -yonder will be aglow with orange-coloured -poppies, and those other -slopes over there across the river -will be covered with brightest mustard. -I admire the mustard more -than anything.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>She smiled at him, and found -something kind to say about all the -wonderful surprises in store for her, -and she seemed so appreciative of the -fresh charms of the country, which -were unfolding themselves to her one -by one, that he began to hope she -might yet learn to care for the new -life and the new land. He put his -troubles bravely on one side, and -went back to work. Hilda saw him -contemplating his ruined ranch; and -when he came in, although he tried -to conceal his feelings, yet his thin -face wore a peculiar look of pain, -which softened her almost into tenderness. -He said very little about the -disaster, and spoke only of filling up -the wash, levelling the land, ploughing -and cultivating it, and getting -it in good condition for the planting -of fresh lemon-trees. All this meant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -terribly hard work, and he looked -really quite unfit to take the slightest -exertion. Ben was anxious about -him, and came over every day to -help with the cultivating of that part -of the ranch which had escaped -damage. He pushed Bob quietly -away, and took possession of the -cultivator.</p> - -<p>“Sit down and smoke, old man,” -he said. “You’re about as fit as a -kitten to do this kind of job.”</p> - -<p>Bob was glad enough to rest. -He watched Ben, smoked his pipe, -and smiled to hear his friend swearing -at the horses.</p> - -<p>“I’m so fearfully tired, Ben,” he -said. “I suppose it is the worry -and the disappointment and all that. -But I shall be rested in a day or two, -and then I must tackle that waste -land. I daresay in a fortnight’s time,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -if we don’t have any more rain, the -ground will be solid enough to be -worked.”</p> - -<p>“It will be a big business,” Ben -said, glancing in that direction.</p> - -<p>“I shall have no peace until I -have started it,” Bob said doggedly.</p> - -<p>“Well, we are all coming to help,” -Ben answered. “All the fellows -are sorry, and you will have quite a -little gang round you. Holles is a -splendid worker when he chooses, -and he will go ahead like a ship on -fire for your sake.”</p> - -<p>“You boys are good to me,” Bob -said gratefully. “I know you will -help me.”</p> - -<p>Then he added half-shyly:</p> - -<p>“The little wife is ever so kind -about the whole affair. And I do -believe she is beginning to like the -life out here better than she ever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -thought she would. I’ve been terribly -worried about her, Ben. In -spite of my great happiness, I feel -it was selfish of me to ask her to -leave England and her people, and -the many pleasures and interests she -has always had in her life over -there.”</p> - -<p>“She needn’t have come,” Ben -answered stoutly.</p> - -<p>Bob smiled happily.</p> - -<p>“No, that is just the comfort of -it,” he said. “She came because she -cared about me. But, nevertheless, -I am anxious the whole time. When -anything pleases her, I cheer up a -little, and lately she has taken so -kindly to the riding. She will soon -be a splendid horsewoman. She looks -well on a horse.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, by Jove!” answered Ben, -enthusiastically.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>“And the country is coming on -beautifully,” continued Bob. “We -shall have an abundance of flowers. -That will be a pleasure to her. But -she does not touch the piano. She -sits down beside it, looks at it, and -goes away. At home she used to -play by the hour.”</p> - -<p>“She will play in time,” said Ben, -kindly; “just leave her to choose -her own moment. Some day when -you least expect it, you will hear -her touching the notes.”</p> - -<p>But he went away with his heart -very sore about his friend; for though -he believed that Hilda was trying -her best to seize hold of the new -life and make what she could of it, -he remembered his long conversation -with her, and felt that she would -never be reconciled to the lot which -she had deliberately chosen. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -had not once referred to her outburst -of confidence that afternoon: at first -she had seemed a little nervous in -his presence; but as the days passed -by and she saw him constantly, the -slight uneasiness of manner wore off. -She trusted to his kindness, and he -knew it. He knew, too, that she liked -him and looked forward to seeing -him, and, for his own part, he could -not but admire the brave attempt -she was making to adapt herself to -these difficult circumstances. It was -altogether admirable. But that set -expression on her face betrayed to -him the real state of her mind, and -he trembled for Bob. And yet he -had to own that she was good to her -husband. Strong as a panther herself, -she did not understand much -about ill-health, but she tried to save -his strength. Only she did not love<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -him. It was this that Ben resented -in her. Still he was greatly attracted -to her at times, much against his will -and against his prejudices. Then he -would go home twirling his moustaches, -and swearing softly and -continuously.</p> - -<p>So the weeks slipped away, and -Bob began to work at the ruined -half of his ranch. He looked very -frail, and there was something about -his unrelenting doggedness which -filled Ben with alarm. Nothing -would induce him to spare himself -over this difficult task. He might -be seen at any hour of the day struggling -with that stubborn land, filling -up the wash-outs, now and then -pausing to rest, and after a few moments -returning with redoubled zeal -to his tedious occupation. It made -no difference to his quiet persistence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -when the other men came to help -him. Ben worked alongside with -him, and could not induce him to -leave off; Graham, Lauderdale, and -Holles rode over constantly and gave -him the best of their strength and -willingness, but he never relaxed for -their presence; indeed they rather -stimulated him to further efforts. -Holles was in capital form, and kept -every one in good spirits.</p> - -<p>“I never remembered to have -worked as hard as this,” he said once -or twice. “It just shows what a -beautiful character I am, if people -would only believe it. I would not -have done it for myself. But I am -not really properly appreciated in -this neighbourhood.”</p> - -<p>Hilda liked him immensely, and -was always ready to hear his unique -experiences by land and by sea. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -laughed till the tears streamed down -her cheeks, for Holles had quite his -own method of narrating. He told -her, too, of his famous feud with the -ear-trumpet lady, and how he had refused -to work for her because he preferred -not to be watched through an -opera-glass.</p> - -<p>“Ben does not mind being watched -through an opera-glass,” he said, -“and I believe Bob rather likes it. -But, even if I were on the verge -of starvation, I would not work on -such infamous conditions. No; I -still have some lingering sense of -dignity, and that wretched old -woman will never have the benefit -of my valuable services. But there! -I forgot she was a friend of yours -and had lent you her piano. Does -she come and listen to you through -an opera-glass?”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“She came once,” answered Hilda, -“but she did not ask me to play, -and she was particularly kind about -the piano, and told me to keep it as -long as I pleased. She is away now, -but when she returns, I must go and -see her.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I think all the better of -her,” said Holles, brightly. “Perhaps -I will work for her.”</p> - -<p>Then he told Hilda he was passionately -fond of music, and he -asked her to play for him.</p> - -<p>“I have never cared for anything -so much as for music,” he said -gently. “It always had a mysterious -influence over me. Do you -know, I believe it appeals to the -best part of us. Sometimes when -I’ve been in the back-country -knocking about and not knowing -where I was going next, a most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> -painful yearning for music has come -over me, and I have positively suffered -from the deprivation. At -moments like that, it is an awful -thing to be cut off from all possibility -of easing one’s longing.”</p> - -<p>Hilda made no answer. She -touched the key-board, and after -hesitating, she played some dainty -old French gavotte. She followed -it up with a mazurka by Godard.</p> - -<p>“Did you like that?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Jesse’s face had fallen. He looked -unsatisfied.</p> - -<p>“Play me something sad now,” -he said. “That is the music one -cares for most, because it is the -truest, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>Her fingers wandered aimlessly -over the notes.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know that I can play anything -sad to you,” she said quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p161.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“HILDA AT THE WINDOW.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>“Why not?” he asked shyly, for -her manner had suddenly intimidated -him.</p> - -<p>“Because I don’t believe I dare -trust myself,” she said, more to -herself than to him.</p> - -<p>She struck a few chords and began -one of Chopin’s Nocturnes. She -broke off abruptly, rose from the -piano, and went to the window. -When she turned round again -Holles had gone. He had understood.</p> - -<p>But out on the ranch, Ben and -Bob looked at each other when -they heard the strains of music, and -Bob’s face was aglow with pleasure. -Ben was glad too.</p> - -<p>“My little wife has gone back to -her music,” Bob said. “Now all will -be well with her. I feel as though -things were going on better, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -as though she were not fretting so -much for the old country.”</p> - -<p>Then the music ceased abruptly.</p> - -<p>“She did not finish that melody,” -he said, a little uneasily.</p> - -<p>“I daresay she is tired,” Ben said -reassuringly.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Hilda rested on the -honeysuckle verandah, and looked -at the distant ranges of mountains, -and the foothills nestling up to them -as children to their parents; she -listened to the sweet notes of the -mocking-bird who had lately taken -up his quarters on the barn; she -watched the flight of a company of -wild ducks; and she glanced at the -garden, where the flowers were growing -apace.</p> - -<p>The camphor-trees were coming -on bravely, and she was glad to see -that the grass was sprouting up.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -She tried to give her mind to each -separate thing which attracted her attention; -and as the sun sank, and -the tender rosy glow spread over hill -and mountain, she stared fixedly at -the beautiful sight until it faded into -a tender vagueness. And then once -more Chopin’s Nocturne stole on her -remembrance, overwhelming her with -regret and longing.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p166.jpg" alt="NACHTSTÜCK, No. 4." /></div> -<p class="caption">NACHTSTÜCK, No. 4.</p> - - - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br /> - - -<small>SCHUMANN’S NACHTSTÜCK</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">EVERYTHING went on as usual -in the little community. Robert -Strafford worked incessantly, and, -in addition to the help he received -from his friends, had engaged the<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_163">[163]</span> -services of a Chinaman, and had -made great strides with the redeeming -of his land. His father had sent -him some money, and told him that -he should remit a further sum in a -month or two, and Robert went to a -lemon-nursery at once and bought -five hundred Lisbons, budded on the -sour root. He was so engrossed in -his ranch that he did not notice how -little interest Hilda was taking in -all his schemes. She seemed cheerful, -and was busy from morning till -night, had learnt to milk the cow, -and even helped on the ranch; but -Ben, who observed her closely, -believed that her cheerfulness was -assumed, and that her ready conversation -came from the lips only, -and that her eagerness for work -arose merely from her desire to do -battle with her regrets. But Bob<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -had taken heart and courage about -her; and now eased in monetary -matters by his father’s generous help, -felt that he was at last coming out -into the sunlight of life. So great -was his confidence in his ultimate -success, and so convincing was his -dogged persistence, that, in spite of -his misfortunes and his frail health, -the minds of his companions leapt -forward, as it were, three or four -years, and the picture of a flourishing -little ranch, more prosperous than -any other in the neighbourhood, -forced itself upon their attention.</p> - -<p>It was nearly six weeks now since -Hilda had touched the piano. But -to-day Robert had gone with the -waggon into the village, and she was -alone on the ranch. She had been -reading some of her home letters, -and looking at some photographs of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -Canterbury and Winchester, half -deciding to frame them, and finally -concluding to put them away. She -opened the piano, and placed her -music on the stand. She chose a -volume of Chopin, another of Schumann, -and some pieces by Brahms -and Grieg. She played well. Her -touch was firm and virile, but wanting -in tenderness. She played one -of Chopin’s Impromptus and one -of his Ballades, and after that she -passed on to his Nocturnes. She -stopped now and again and covered -her face with her hands. She was -quite tearless. Then she played -both of Brahms’ Rhapsodies, and -some numbers out of Schumann’s -Carnèval. She leaned back in her -chair, looking almost like a statue. -Her fingers sought the notes once -more, and she played Grieg’s <i>Einsamer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -Wanderer</i>, which is so intensely -sad.</p> - -<p>“Jesse Holles would like that,” -she said to herself; “but I could -never play it to him.”</p> - -<p>She paused, and her hands rested -insensibly on the keys.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I must have been mad,” she -said, with something like a sob, “to -have so much and to give it all up, -<i>and for what</i>? Ah, if one could -only free oneself!”</p> - -<p>She drifted into Schumann’s Kinderscenen, -choosing unconsciously -the saddest numbers, and then she -struck the arpeggio chords and began -his most wonderful Nachtstück.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p171.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“HILDA’S SELF-CONTROL BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It is fraught with melancholy, regret, -longing, pity—and what else -besides? But surely it is idle work -to describe beautiful music. As we -play and as we listen, if we are lovers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -of music, we use our own interpretation; -we weave our own feelings, our -own emotions, our own aspirations -and regrets into it, and lo! for the -moment we have made it our own -language.... Before Hilda had -reached the closing phrases of the -Nachtstück, her self-control broke -down completely. She nestled up to -the piano, her arms resting on the -finger-board, her head bowed over -them. She sobbed unceasingly. The -tears streamed unheeded from her -eyes. There seemed to be no end -to the sobbing, no end to the tears.</p> - -<p>But at last she raised herself, and -clasped her hands together at the back -of her neck, and looked up. Her -husband was standing in the doorway.</p> - -<p>“Hilda!” he cried, and he advanced -a step, his arms extended.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>“No, no!” she cried, turning -from him. “I want to be alone, I -must be alone, I’m too utterly -wretched for words. It’s all of no -use, I can’t stand this life out here; -it will just kill me—it isn’t life, it is -only existence, and such an existence -too! I must have been mad to come—I -was mad, every one was against -it—my mother and father and friends, -all of them. But I didn’t know -what I was coming to—how could -any one know?—how could I picture -to myself the desolation and the -deadness and the dull monotony, and -the absence of everything picturesque, -and the barren country, which at its -best can never be comforting? I -hate those mountains there, I could -shake them, and I could go out and -tread down all those wretched rows -of wretched little trees—it’s all an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> -absurd mockery of a life, it’s starvation -from beginning to end. You -just feel that there is nothing to live -for, and you cry out the whole time -to be done with it. Yes, I was mad, -mad to leave everything and come—I -can see it well enough now, when -it is too late. But it was little enough -you told me in your letters. Why -didn’t you make me understand -clearly what I was coming to? And -yet you did try—I remember you -tried; but how could any one ever -describe the awful desolation? Oh, -it’s simply heartbreaking. And to -think it has to continue month after -month, and year after year, and that -there is no escape from it. How -shall I ever bear myself? How can -I possibly go on, drudging all the -day long? For that is what the life -out here means to a woman—drudgery<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -and desolation, and it is wickedly -cruel.”</p> - -<p>Robert Strafford stood there paralysed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p177.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“ROBERT PASSED NOISELESSLY OUT OF THE<br /> -HOUSE.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“And such an unattractive place -to settle in,” she continued wildly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -“when there are entrancing parts of -the country near at hand: I saw -them myself on the journey. If you -had to come, why not have chosen a -spot worth living in, where some -kind of social existence was possible, -instead of burying yourself in a -wilderness like this? But nothing -could ever make up to one for all one -had lost, and if I were a man, I -would rather starve at home in my -old career than cut myself off from -the throb and pulsation of a fuller -life. Yes, indeed I would, and to-morrow -I would turn my face homewards -and thank God that I had -freed myself at last, in spite of every one -and everything, freed myself at -last—oh God! when I think of it -all....”</p> - -<p>Robert’s face was ashen. Twice he -tried to speak, and his voice failed -him.</p> - -<p>Then he said, quite quietly:</p> - -<p>“Never fear, Hilda, you shall have -your freedom.”</p> - -<p>He opened the door, and passed -noiselessly out of the house.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br /> - - -<small>A STRICKEN MAN</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">HE chose the road which led to -Ben’s ranch, and he went -along at an almost feverish pace, -not stopping to rest for a single -moment, during all those seven miles. -When Ben saw him, he knew at once -from the terrible expression on his -face that some trouble had befallen -him. He led him silently into the -house, pushed him gently into the -arm-chair, and, with a tenderness all -his own, forced him to take some -food and stimulant; and then drawing -his chair alongside, and lighting -his pipe afresh, he waited, as close<span class="pagenum2" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -friends know how to wait, for the -moment when the heart desires to -ease itself. At last Robert spoke, -but so quietly that his very manner -would have awed any listener, and -it filled Ben with apprehension.</p> - -<p>“Ben,” he said, “Hilda has told -me to-night how she hates the whole -life. She bitterly regrets having -come, she bitterly reproaches me -for having settled in the country, -and I recognise the truth of everything -she says. She yearns to be -free again, and she shall have her -freedom. It is the very least I can -do for her. But I’m a stricken -man. I’ve been fool enough to -think she cared for me—I’ve loved -her so much myself, that it did not -seem possible she could not care a -little for me—and I’ve been fool -enough to try and make myself believe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -that in time she might get -reconciled to this Californian life. -I might have known it was never -at any moment possible. I’ve made -a wretched failure of my life and -career over in England and over -here, and I’ve earned for myself not -her love, nor her tenderness, nor even -her sympathy, but her scorn. Ben, -I felt it in every word she said. I -can never forget my humiliation, I can -never forget her contempt. I could -have fought through other things, -but not that. If that is all one gets -for all one’s years of longing and -labour, then the game is not worth -the candle. Do you remember me -telling you that the worst thing which -could happen to me would be, not -her changing her mind and throwing -me over, but her disappointment -and her scorn? Do you remember<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -that? You laughed at me, and tried -to chase away my misgivings, but it -seems to me now that our misgivings -are about the only things in our -lives which cannot be called failures.”</p> - -<p>Ben drew nearer to his friend.</p> - -<p>“Dear old man,” he said, “take -heart again. She was home-sick perhaps, -and all the home-longings came -leaping out. She could not have -meant to be hard. She will bitterly -regret her words, and all will be -well between you again. You will -forgive her, and the wound will be -healed.”</p> - -<p>“There is nothing to forgive,” -Robert said quietly. “I don’t blame -her at all, but I blame myself bitterly, -bitterly.”</p> - -<p>“But I blame her,” said Ben, -fiercely, “and face to face I shall -tell her so.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>“The only thing I have against -her is that she has not cared in the -very least for me,” Robert said, -“and words cannot mend that, Ben.”</p> - -<p>He leaned back wearily in the -chair, looking almost as though he -had ceased to be of this world. The -silence was broken only by the note -of the mocking-bird, and the noise -of the brown mare knocking impatiently -against the stall.</p> - -<p>“She must go home to the life -which she gave up for me,” Robert -said, after a long pause. “I don’t -want her sacrifices: they are not -worth anything to me. I think I -have enough money left for her passage, -and if not, I know you will -help me out. I must give her her -freedom at once.”</p> - -<p>He rose abruptly, but sank back -with a groan, his hand to his heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p185.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“‘BEN,’ HE MURMURED, ‘WE MUST—’ HE FAINTED AWAY.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>“Ben,” he murmured, “we -must—”</p> - -<p>He fainted away.</p> - -<p>Ben got him on the ground, loosened -his shirt, tended him as he had -so often done before in similar attacks, -and he came back to life once -more. After a time Ben put him -to bed like a little tired child. He -held Ben’s hand, and looked into -his kind face and smiled.</p> - -<p>“Dear old fellow,” he said tenderly, -“dear old fellow. We must -send her home, Ben,” he said, as he -turned his face to the wall.</p> - -<p>Then he raised himself for a -moment.</p> - -<p>“She was mistaken about one -thing,” he said. “She had seen -some of those settled-up parts on her -way out here, and they seemed attractive -to her, and she reproached<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> -me for not having bought land there. -But you know, Ben, I had not the -money for that sort of thing; you -know I could not have afforded to -pay fancy prices for my ranch. But it -was only that she did not understand.”</p> - -<p>After that he fell asleep from sheer -exhaustion, and Ben crept back into -the living-room, half beside himself -with indignation and anxiety. He -felt he ought to let Hilda know that -Robert was with him, and yet it was -quite impossible for him to leave his -friend. He longed to see her, and -speak his mind to her about her -cruelty. His whole being was at -feud with her. A torrent of words -rushed to his lips, and broke off into -impotent silence.</p> - -<p>There was a knock at the door. -When he opened it, he found Hilda -outside.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>“Robert is here?” she asked -breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“Robert is here,” he answered -coldly.</p> - -<p>He had stood barring the door as -it were, and now he stepped back to -let her pass in.</p> - -<p>“I must see him at once,” she -said, turning round defiantly to -Ben.</p> - -<p>“He is sleeping,” Ben said sternly. -“At least let him rest awhile.”</p> - -<p>He lit the lamp, and placed it on -the table, and then looked her straight -in the face.</p> - -<p>“You have heard everything from -Robert,” she said, shrinking back -almost imperceptibly.</p> - -<p>“Robert has told me of his -trouble,” Ben answered, trying manfully -to restrain his anger. But he -thought of his friend stricken to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -heart, and his indignation could no -longer be smothered.</p> - -<p>“I blame you bitterly,” he said, -folding his arms together tightly and -towering before her. “Yes, you -shall hear what I think of you. He -says he has nothing against you, but -I have everything against you! If -you had not a heart to bring with -you, and some kind of tenderness, -why did you come out here? No -one made you come. You could -have stayed at home if you had chosen. -That would have been better than -this. But to come and give him -nothing but scorn, and throw his -failure in his face, and make him feel -that you despise him for not having -done better in the old country—I -tell you that you are the one to be -despised.”</p> - -<p>“It is not your part to talk to me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -like this,” she said, interrupting him -fiercely. “You are not my judge.”</p> - -<p>“And yet I do judge you,” he -flung out fearlessly, and then he -glanced at her, and stopped short in -the very heat of his anger and resentment, -for her face wore a terribly -strained expression of pain, and his -gentler feelings were aroused even -at that moment. “Ah, well,” he -said, “words are not of much use -after all. I am so deeply sorry for -him, and for you too—there is -nothing I would not do to set things -right for you both.”</p> - -<p>His kinder manner softened her -at once.</p> - -<p>“I never meant to speak to him -as I did this afternoon,” she said. -“I don’t know how it was that I -could not control myself better, but -I was just wild with regret, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -music had stirred me up to such a -pitch that the words came tumbling -out of their own accord; and after it -was all over, and he had gone, I -stood there horrified with myself, -and terrified for him, because I -knew he cared so much. And that -has been the awful part of it all -through: he has cared so much, and -I seemed to have cared so little. -Oh, you don’t realise how I’ve tried -to take up this life. Day after day -I’ve begun over again and struggled -to put from me the dull feeling of -depression, but it came back ten -times worse, until I’ve been in despair. -Naturally enough you have -only seen the one side, but you -would not think so harshly of me -if you’d known how I have tried, -and how everything has been against -the grain.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>He turned to her with something -of his old kind bearing.</p> - -<p>“I know you have tried,” he said -slowly; and some of the pain passed -from her face when he spoke these -words.</p> - -<p>“I think I would like to see if -he is still sleeping,” she said, almost -pleadingly.</p> - -<p>Ben pointed to the bedroom door.</p> - -<p>“Don’t rouse him,” he said. “If -he sleeps long and heavily, he may -wake refreshed. But I think he is -very ill. He has just had one of his -fainting fits, and an obstinate one -too, and his state of exhaustion afterwards -has made me horribly anxious.”</p> - -<p>She turned pale, and went softly -into the bedroom. She came back -in a few minutes, and found Ben preparing -supper. He looked up at her -eagerly, and was relieved when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -told him that Robert was still sleeping -soundly, and that she had not -lingered lest she might disturb him.</p> - -<p>“He was murmuring something -about not being able to pay a fancy -price for land,” she said. “I wonder -what he meant.”</p> - -<p>“He took it greatly to heart that -you thought he might have bought -land in a more settled part of the -country,” Ben replied. “But he -could not have afforded to do that.”</p> - -<p>“He looks very ill,” Hilda said, -half dreamily.</p> - -<p>“I have been anxious for him -these many months,” Ben said quietly. -“He never had much strength, and -he has overtaxed it with his ranch -and his reservoir. It is the story -of many a rancher in California.”</p> - -<p>“And I have not helped him,” -Hilda said.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>Ben was silent.</p> - -<p>“I would give anything on earth -to undo this afternoon’s work,” she -said, with painful eagerness. “And -it’s so awful to sit here, and not be -able to tell him that. I long for him -to rest, and yet I long for him to wake. -I don’t know how to bear myself.”</p> - -<p>“You must wait,” Ben said, gently.</p> - -<p>So they waited and watched together. -It was a lovely night, and the -country was bathed in moonlight. -The mountains were darkly outlined -against the silvery sky. The world -seemed to be one vast fairy-land, -wrapt in mystery and peace. On -such a night, a poet might have woven -dreams, an idealist might have seen -bright visions, and to them the hours -would have faded imperceptibly like -the moonlight into dawn.</p> - -<p>But to Hilda that time of waiting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -seemed endless. She looked out -on the fairy scene, and then came -back gratefully to the fire which Ben -had built up directly the night turned -chilly. He sat near her, smoking -his pipe, and twirling his great moustaches. -Once when he saw her -shiver, he rose and fetched a rug -for her, and wrapped it around her, -and threw a few more logs on the -fire. They did not attempt conversation -now: they sat rigidly upright, -waiting for the morning to dawn. -Once she drowsed a little, and when -she opened her eyes again, Ben told -her that Robert had called out loudly -in his sleep, but was now resting -quietly.</p> - -<p>“The morning is almost here,” -he said; “it is half-past three.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/p197.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“SHE BENT OVER HER HUSBAND AND LOOKED AT HIS<br /> -PALE FACE.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span></p> -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She drowsed once more, and the -clock was striking five, when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -suddenly started up and stole into -the bedroom. She bent over her -husband and looked at his pale face. -He lay there absolutely still: there -was no sound of breathing—no -movement of the limbs. A sudden -fear seized her.</p> - -<p>“Ben!” she cried, “Ben!”</p> - -<p>Ben Overleigh heard his name, -and felt a thrill of terror in her voice, -and knew by the answering terror -in his own heart that the dreaded -trouble had come at last. Together -they raised that quiet form, and -strove by every means they knew -to bring it back to consciousness -and life. But in vain.</p> - -<p>Then he shrank back from her, -and his fiercest anger took possession -of him.</p> - -<p>“So you have your freedom,” he -said.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br /> - - -<small>PASSION AND LOYALTY</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THERE was great sorrow felt -when the news spread about -that Robert Strafford had died, but -there was no surprise, for his friends -had long since seen that he was slipping -away from them, having reduced -himself to the last inch of his strength -through overwork and anxiety. It -was an old story in Southern California, -and one not rightly understood -in the old country, but Ben -Overleigh explained it in the letter -which he wrote to Robert’s father.</p> - -<p>“We buried him yesterday,” he -wrote, “and his wife and we fellows<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -who had known him and loved him, -stood by the grave. He never had -much strength, but what he had, he -taxed to the uttermost. These last -months he worked like one possessed. -No delicate frame could -stand it, and then he was unhappy -about his wife, seeing her so home-sick. -That finished matters for him. -I remember when I first met him -about four years ago, I thought it -sheer madness for a frail young fellow -like that to come out to a life -of physical toil. Ranching is not -child’s play, and if you want to succeed, -you don’t sit down and watch -your trees; you work at them the -whole time, and it isn’t light work. -To leave a city office, and come and -be in the open air during the whole -day sounds inviting, but some of -those who try it, and have not much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -physical strength, go under. I wish -this could be better understood in -the old country. But I expect no -one realises, until he tries for himself, -what hard work manual labour -really is, when one has never been -accustomed to it, and knows nothing -about it. Two years ago a young -English doctor here died in the same -way. He knew he had drained himself -of strength, and that his heart -was worn out. I want you to know -we all loved your son, and as for myself, -he leaves me bereft indeed. I -shall buy his ranch, and work it together -with mine. His wife will no -doubt return as soon as she can, but -at present there is a tremendous railway -strike going on, and we are entirely -cut off from the Eastern States. -But some of the mails get through, and -so I will risk it, and send this letter.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>Ben seemed to be quite a broken -man, and went about his work as one -seeing nothing and caring for nothing. -Graham and Lauderdale and -Holles tried their best to reach him -with their kindness and sympathy; -but he seemed unreachable, as though -he had climbed to some distant mountain, -and had cut himself off from -human aid. But he liked to have -Jesse Holles near him, remembering -always that Jesse had been fond of -Robert, and had given him many -an hour of willing help. He looked -after his ranch as usual, and rode -over to Hilda every day without fail. -He spent very little of his time with -her personally, but worked on Robert’s -ranch, finding a melancholy satisfaction -in continuing what his friend -had begun. He tended the horses, -and helped Hilda in many ways.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -He cultivated, he pruned, and then -he came up to the house, and sat -down quietly with her, watching her -as she prepared tea, watching and -wondering and turning over many -things in his mind. He was intensely -sorry for her, but he had not told -her that in words, although he knew -she understood it from his deeds. -In spite of all that had occurred, he -could not help being strongly attracted -to her, and sometimes when -he was alone at home, he found himself -torn in pieces by his great bereavement, -by his sympathy with -Hilda’s remorse, by his attraction -to her, and his repulsion from her. -Thus the storm swept furiously over -Ben Overleigh. He told her once -or twice that he would like to buy -Robert’s ranch, and he thought they -would not have any difficulty in arranging<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -the matter. She did not -make any definite reply, nor did she -show any interest in his suggestion. -She seemed strangely indifferent about -the fate of the ranch, and about her -own affairs and plans, which were -being held in abeyance by the great -railway strike. It was obvious, of -course, that she would return home -as soon as she could, but she never -once spoke of home, and never once -referred to the strike as interfering -in any way with her own intentions. -But she did speak of Robert, and -then there was no mistaking the remorse -in her manner, and the awe -in her voice.</p> - -<p>“I can never forget how I -wounded him,” she said.</p> - -<p>Ben did not answer her on these -occasions; and his silence always -stung her.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>“You condemn me utterly,” she -said, almost pleadingly, and she -showed by her intensity how much -she cared for what this man thought -of her. She showed it all the more -as the days went on, and, after all, -it was natural enough that she -should turn to him as her only -friend in this distant country, where -she was a complete stranger. But -the matter did not end there. She -was strongly attracted to him, and -either she could not or would not -hide it. At one moment a thrill of -contempt would pass through Ben, -and he could have turned from her -as from something which soiled his -soul; and at another moment a -throb of passion would possess him, -and he could have thrown up everything -for her, his loyalty to his -friend, his sense of dignity and fitness,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> -his own estimate of her character—everything -he could have -swept to the winds. He noticed, -too, that as the time went on, she -seemed to become more reconciled -to the scenery; and indeed the -country was looking entrancingly -beautiful. All Robert’s promises -to her had come true: the foothills -were powdered with gold; some of -the slopes were arrayed in bright -attire of orange-coloured poppies, -and others had chosen for themselves -a luxurious garment of wild -mustard. Then there was the dazzling -green grass, and the vast expanse -of grain-fields, and in the -distance yonder there were patches -of purple and yellow flowers, reminding -one of the gorse and -heather in the old country. The -grim barren mountains looked down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> -indulgently on all this finery, like -old people who have had their days -of vanity, and are content to watch -the young bedeck themselves so -gaily. And the air was laden with -the heavy fragrances of the flowers -and the orange and lemon blossoms. -Hilda drove out every day, -and brought back endless treasures: -wild lilac, wild azalea, and maiden-hair -from some distant cañon. Her -one consolation was to be out of the -house: she drove, or she rode the -pretty little mare which Robert had -chosen so lovingly for her, and sometimes -she strolled, taking with her a -stout stick in case she came across -any snakes. Nellie, the pointer, who -had fretted piteously since Robert’s -death, went with her, and whatever -she did, the dog was always to be -seen following her. Hilda’s health<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> -had not suffered from the shock -which she had sustained, but she -often looked anxious and desolate, -and some of the people who saw -her, thought she had changed sadly. -They said that was not to be wondered -at, considering the sad circumstances -of her husband’s death, and -the long continuance of the railway -strike, which made it impossible for -her to join her friends.</p> - -<p>But one evening whilst she was -sitting on the honeysuckle porch, -Holles rode up waving a paper in -his hands.</p> - -<p>“Such good news!” he cried; -“the strike is over. There has been -some kind of a compromise between -the company and the men, and some -of the mails are through. I’ve got a -ton-load for you in this gunny-sack. -Nothing for me, of course, except<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -my religious paper. That never gets -lost.”</p> - -<p>She put the magazines on one side, -and opened her home letters. They -were the first she had received in -answer to her own letter telling of -Robert’s death. Her father wrote -most kindly, enclosing an order on -one of the banks to cover her passage-money.</p> - -<p>“Of course you will come back at -once,” he said, “and take up your -life where you left it.”</p> - -<p>The letter fell from her hands.</p> - -<p>The old life was offered to her -again. There it was waiting for her, -and she was free to go and accept it, -and taste once more of the things for -which she had been starving.</p> - -<p>She was free. There was no one -and nothing to hinder her. She -could go back, and put these sad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> -events and her remorse and her great -mistake away from her remembrance. -She argued that one had not to -suffer all through one’s life for a -mistake. She had not meant to be -cruel to poor Robert, but she ought -never to have come at all. And -now she was free to go, and once at -home again these months would -seem to her as a time of which -she had dreamed during an uneasy -night.</p> - -<p>But no sense of gladness or thankfulness -came over her. She sat there, -and bit her lips.</p> - -<p>Home? What did she want with -home?</p> - -<p>She rose and went into the living-room, -carelessly throwing her letters -and papers on the table. The bank -bill fell down, and she stooped and -picked it up, and her fingers moved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -as though they were being impelled -to tear it in shreds.</p> - -<p>But she tossed it whole on to -the table. She struck a match to -light the lamp, but changed her -mind and let the darkness creep on -unrelieved.</p> - -<p>Ben Overleigh rode up half an -hour afterwards, and found her thus.</p> - -<p>“I have come to tell you that the -strike is over, and the train service -begins to-morrow,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I have heard,” she said rigidly.</p> - -<p>“You must be glad to hear the -news,” he said. “This time of waiting -must have been very trying for -you.”</p> - -<p>She did not answer.</p> - -<p>“And now at last you will be able -to go home to your friends,” he said.</p> - -<p>She was silent.</p> - -<p>“I wanted to speak to you about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> -the ranch,” he continued, a little nervously. -“I have set my mind on -buying the place, and carrying out -Robert’s ideas. I hope you will -give me the opportunity. If you -look over his papers, you will find at -what figure he valued his property. -I only speak of it, because I thought -that the certainty of being able to sell -the ranch and receive money down -at once, might make it all the easier -for you, now that the line is open, -to arrange your plans, and return -home.”</p> - -<p>“Home?” she echoed, as though -in sudden pain.</p> - -<p>Ben started.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said quickly, “back to -the life for which you have been -hungering ever since you came, back -to all those interests which you threw -away, and then so bitterly regretted.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> -Now your path is clear before you, -and you can go straight on, and forget -that you ever took a side-turning -which led you to uncongenial pastures. -Not every one can do that.”</p> - -<p>“The old life!” she said wildly, -“what does one want with the old -life? What do I care about returning? -Why should I go home?”</p> - -<p>For a moment Ben Overleigh’s -heart leapt within him. <i>Why should -she go home?</i> These words were on -his very lips, and others came rushing -afterwards, struggling and wrestling -for utterance. The storm raging -around and within him for so many -weeks, now assailed him with all its -fury—and left him standing as firm -as those mountains yonder.</p> - -<p>“Why should you stay?” he said -calmly; “you have said all along -that this Californian life was detestable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -to you, and that you could never -reconcile yourself to it. Have you -forgotten that afternoon when you -poured out your confidences to me, -and eased your mind of your misery? -Do you remember how you spoke -of the isolation, the fearful distance -from home, and the absence of stimulus, -and the daily drudgery, and the -mistake you had made in coming -out to such a wretched land, and to -such a starved existence?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I have not forgotten,” she -said excitedly; “that was the first -long breath I’d taken since I left -England.”</p> - -<p>“And do you remember how you -said that if you’d only realised what -you were coming to, nothing would -have made you come,” he continued -deliberately,—“neither love nor -friendship, nor duty nor regret; and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> -that if you had been a man, you -would have preferred to starve in -your old career rather than settle in -such a land as this?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” she broke in, “and I -meant every word I said.”</p> - -<p>“And do you remember how you -asked me what it was we found -to like in the life,” he continued, -“and whether we would not throw -it up to-morrow if we could, and -what in the name of heaven we -got in exchange for all we had -lost?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I remember,” she said -breathlessly; “and do you remember -what you said then about the -women?”</p> - -<p>“I said that we men gained in -every particular, and that it was a -life for men and not for women,” he -answered.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>“Ah, but there was something -else,” she said, almost desperately. -“You said they came off badly here, -but that their one salvation was to -love passionately, desperately—”</p> - -<p>“And if I did say so,” he said, -turning to her fiercely, “what has -that to do with you and me?”</p> - -<p>There was no mistaking the ring -of contempt in his voice. She -smarted in every fibre of her, and -instantly gathered herself together.</p> - -<p>“No, you are right,” she said, -with a quick nervous laugh. “It -has not anything to do with you and -me.”</p> - -<p>He had struck a match as she -spoke, and lit the lamp, and she -came from the window where she -had been standing, and pushed into -a heap the letters and papers which -were scattered over the table.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>“That railway strike has lasted a -terribly long time,” she said, in a -tone of voice utterly different from -her trembling accents of a few minutes -past. “But now, thank goodness, -it is all over, and I can arrange -my plans at last. My father has -sent the money for my return. But -it is good of you to wish to make -things easy for my journey. I shall -not, however, need any more ready -money, you see, for the cheque is -large enough to pay my expenses -twice over to England.”</p> - -<p>Ben stood there half stunned by -her sudden change of manner, and -by the consummate way in which she -swept from her horizon the whole of -this incident between them.</p> - -<p>“And now about the ranch,” she -continued, with the dignity of a -queen. “I will look out the papers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -to-morrow, and then we will settle -it as you wish. I do not know any -one to whom I could sell dear -Robert’s ranch with greater pleasure -than to you. But you must -pay me at your leisure. There is -no hurry.”</p> - -<p>“Good God!” thought Ben. “A -few minutes ago this woman was all -but throwing herself at my feet, and -now she stands there and patronises -me.”</p> - -<p>He could scarcely control his anger -and scorn, but he mastered himself, -and said quietly:</p> - -<p>“I shall be very grateful to have -old Robert’s ranch. It will be some -consolation to me to take care of it -and make it my own. You know -we loved each other, he and I. But -as for payment, I shall prefer to give -the money down, at once.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>“That shall be just as you please,” -she said, with gracious condescension. -“And now good-night. I am very -tired.”</p> - -<p>She held out her hand to him, but -he looked her straight in the face, -bowed slightly, and left her.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br /> - - -<small>FAREWELL TO CALIFORNIA</small></h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">A FORTNIGHT afterwards, Ben -Overleigh and Jesse Holles -saw Hilda Strafford off at the station. -She looked very pale, and glanced at -Ben uneasily from time to time. -There was neither scorn nor anger in -his manner now, but just the old -gentle chivalry, which was the outcome -of his best self. His face, -too, had lost its expression of restless -anxiety, and there was a dignity about -his whole bearing, which might well -have been the outward and visible -sign of the quiet dignity of his mind, -won after a fierce struggle.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>“You shall have news of the -ranch,” he said. “When the lemons -come into bearing, you shall know.”</p> - -<p>She smiled her thanks, and turning -to Jesse, she asked whether -she could do anything for him in -England.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said sadly, “kiss the -dear ground for me.” And he added -more cheerfully: “And send me -an illustrated paper sometimes.”</p> - -<p>“And for you?” she asked of -Ben, hesitatingly.</p> - -<p>“Kiss the dear ground for me, -too,” he answered.</p> - -<p>And this time he held out his -hand to her, and she grasped it.</p> - -<p>Then the train moved off.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> -</div></div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HILDA STRAFFORD ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 117fdea..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3bc7f62..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/coversmall.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/front.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/front.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 42909f8..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/front.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/logo.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f22bf5f..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/logo.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p045.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p045.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8306ee8..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p045.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p051.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p051.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d8c3d46..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p051.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p065.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p065.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 36e1a37..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p065.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p085.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p085.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index da81d67..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p085.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p097.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p097.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a4edf35..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p097.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p109.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p109.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3611bda..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p109.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p161.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p161.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4ae11dc..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p161.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p166.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p166.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 68cf897..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p166.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p171.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p171.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9632d6a..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p171.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p177.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p177.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d735eda..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p177.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p185.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p185.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 36566c2..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p185.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67881-h/images/p197.jpg b/old/67881-h/images/p197.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index aa2e550..0000000 --- a/old/67881-h/images/p197.jpg +++ /dev/null |
