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spoke to the Ranger. Steele, after the first start, showed no unusual
feeling. He greeted both girls pleasantly.
"Russ, that was thoughtful of you," he said. "It was womankind needed
here. I could do so little--Mrs. Hoden, you look better to-day. I'm
glad. And here's baby, all clean and white. Baby, what a time I had
trying to puzzle out the way your clothes went on! Well, Mrs. Hoden,
didn't I tell you friends would come? So will the brighter side."
"Yes; I've more faith than I had," replied Mrs. Hoden. "Roger Sampson's
daughter has come to me. There for a while after Jim's death I thought
I'd sink. We have nothing. How could I ever take care of my little ones?
But I'm gaining courage."
"Mrs. Hoden, do not distress yourself any more," said Miss Sampson. "I
shall see you are well cared for. I promise you."
"Miss Sampson, that's fine!" exclaimed Steele, with a ring in his voice.
"It's what I'd have hoped--expected of you..."
It must have been sweet praise to her, for the whiteness of her face
burned in a beautiful blush.
"And it's good of you, too, Miss Langdon, to come," added Steele. "Let
me thank you both. I'm glad I have you girls as allies in part of my
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lonely task here. More than glad, for the sake of this good woman and
the little ones. But both of you be careful. Don't stir without Russ.
There's risk. And now I'll be going. Good-by. Mrs. Hoden, I'll drop in
again to-night. Good-by!"
Steele backed to the door, and I slipped out before him.
"Mr. Steele--wait!" called Miss Sampson as he stepped out. He uttered a
little sound like a hiss or a gasp or an intake of breath, I did not
know what; and then the incomprehensible fellow bestowed a kick upon me
that I thought about broke my leg. But I understood and gamely endured
the pain. Then we were looking at Diane Sampson. She was white and
wonderful. She stepped out of the door, close to Steele. She did not see
me; she cared nothing for my presence. All the world would not have
mattered to her then.
"I have wronged you!" she said impulsively.
Looking on, I seemed to see or feel some slow, mighty force gathering in
Steele to meet this ordeal. Then he appeared as always--yet, to me, how
different!
"Miss Sampson, how can you say that?" he returned.
"I believed what my father and George Wright said about you--that
bloody, despicable record! Now I do _not_ believe. I see--I wronged
you."
"You make me very glad when you tell me this. It was hard to have you
think so ill of me. But, Miss Sampson, please don't speak of wronging
me. I am a Ranger, and much said of me is true. My duty is hard on
others--sometimes on those who are innocent, alas! But God knows that
duty is hard, too, on me."
"I did wrong you. In thought--in word. I ordered you from my home as if
you were indeed what they called you. But I was deceived. I see my
error. If you entered my home again I would think it an honor. I--"
"Please--please don't, Miss Sampson," interrupted poor Steele. I could
see the gray beneath his bronze and something that was like gold deep in
his eyes.
"But, sir, my conscience flays me," she went on. There was no other
sound like her voice. If I was all distraught with emotion, what must
Steele have been? "I make amends. Will you take my hand? Will you
forgive me?" She gave it royally, while the other was there pressing at
her breast.
Steele took the proffered hand and held it, and did not release it. What
else could he have done? But he could not speak. Then it seemed to dawn
upon Steele there was more behind this white, sweet, noble intensity of
her than just making amends for a fancied or real wrong. For myself, I
thought the man did not live on earth who could have resisted her then.
And there was resistance; I felt it; she must have felt it. It was poor
Steele's hard fate to fight the charm and eloquence and sweetness of
this woman when, for some reason unknown to him, and only guessed at by
me, she was burning with all the fire and passion of her soul.
"Mr. Steele, I honor you for your goodness to this unfortunate woman,"
she said, and now her speech came swiftly. "When she was all alone and
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helpless you were her friend. It was the deed of a man. But Mrs. Hoden
isn't the only unfortunate woman in the world. I, too, am unfortunate.
Ah, how I may soon need a friend!
"Vaughn Steele, the man whom I need most to be my friend--want most to
lean upon--is the one whose duty is to stab me to the heart, to ruin
me. You! Will you be my friend? If you knew Diane Sampson you would know
she would never ask you to be false to your duty. Be true to us both!
I'm so alone--no one but Sally loves me. I'll need a friend soon--soon.
"Oh, I know--I know what you'll find out sooner or later. I know _now_!
I want to help you. Let us save life, if not honor. Must I stand
alone--all alone? Will you--will you be--"
Her voice failed. She was swaying toward Steele. I expected to see his
arms spread wide and enfold her in their embrace.
"Diane Sampson, I love you!" whispered Steele hoarsely, white now to his
lips. "I must be true to my duty. But if I can't be true to you, then by
God, I want no more of life!" He kissed her hand and rushed away.
She stood a moment as if blindly watching the place where he had
vanished, and then as a sister might have turned to a brother, she
reached for me.
Chapter 8
THE EAVESDROPPER
We silently rode home in the gathering dusk. Miss Sampson dismounted at
the porch, but Sally went on with me to the corrals. I felt heavy and
somber, as if a catastrophe was near at hand.
"Help me down," said Sally. Her voice was low and tremulous.
"Sally, did you hear what Miss Sampson said to Steele?" I asked.
"A little, here and there. I heard Steele tell her he loved her. Isn't
this a terrible mix?"
"It sure is. Did you hear--do you understand why she appealed to Steele,
asked him to be her friend?"
"Did she? No, I didn't hear that. I heard her say she had wronged him.
Then I tried not to hear any more. Tell me."
"No Sally; it's not my secret. I wish I could do something--help them
somehow. Yes, it's sure a terrible mix. I don't care so much about
myself."
"Nor me," Sally retorted.
"You! Oh, you're only a shallow spoiled child! You'd cease to love
anything the moment you won it. And I--well, I'm no good, you say. But
their love! My God, what a tragedy! You've no idea, Sally. They've
hardly spoken to each other, yet are ready to be overwhelmed."
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Sally sat so still and silent that I thought I had angered or offended
her. But I did not care much, one way or another. Her coquettish fancy [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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