CHAPTER XVI
WHEREIN A WOMAN LIES
"Aren't you going to welcome me, dearie?"
From the porch of the Bar B ranchhouse Rosalind had watched the rapidapproach of the buckboard, and she now stood at the edge of the stepleading to the porch, not more than ten or fifteen feet distant from thevehicle, shocked into dumb amazement.
"Why, yes--of course. That is--Why, what on earth brought you out here?"
"A perfectly good train--as far as your awfully crude town of Manti; andthis--er--spring-legged thing, the rest of the way," laughed HesterHarvey. She had stepped down, a trifle flushed, inwardly amused, outwardlyembarrassed--which was very good acting; but looking very attractive andgirlish in the simple dress she had donned for the occasion--and for thepurpose of making a good impression. So attractive was she that thecontemplation of her brought a sinking sensation to Rosalind that droopedher shoulders, and caused her to look around, involuntarily, for somethingto lean upon. For there flashed into her mind at this instant theconviction that she had herself to blame for this visitation--she hadwritten to Ruth Gresham, and Ruth very likely had disseminated the news,after the manner of all secrets, and Hester had heard it. And of coursethe attraction was "Brand" Trevison! A new emotion surged through Rosalindat this thought, an emotion so strong that it made her gasp--jealousy!
She got through the ordeal somehow--with an appearance of pleasure--thoughit was hard for her to play the hypocrite! But so soon as she decentlycould, without cutting short the inevitable inconsequential chatter whichfills the first moments of renewed friendships, she hurried Hester to aroom and during her absence sat immovable in her chair on the porchstaring stonily out at the plains.
It was not until half an hour later, when they were sitting on the porch,that Hester delivered the stroke that caused Rosalind's hands to fallnervelessly into her lap, her lips to quiver and her eyes to fill with areflection of a pain that gripped her hard, somewhere inside. For Hesterhad devised her method, as suggested by Corrigan.
"It may seem odd to you--if you know anything of the manner of my breakingoff with Trevison Brandon--but he wrote me about a month ago, asking me tocome out here. I didn't accept the invitation at once--because I didn'twant him to be too sure, you know, dearie. Men are always presuming andpursuing, dearie."
"Then you didn't hear of Trevison's whereabouts from Ruth Gresham?"
"Why, no, dearie! He wrote directly to me."
Rosalind hadn't _that_ to reproach herself with, at any rate!
"Of course, I couldn't go to his ranch--the Diamond K, isn't it?--so,noting from one of the newspapers that you had come here, I decided totake advantage of _your_ hospitality. I'm just wild to see the dear boy!Is his ranch far? For you know," she added, with a malicious look at thegirl's pale face; "I must not keep him waiting, now that I am here."
"You won't find him prosperous." It hurt Rosalind to say that, but thehurt was slightly offset by a savage resentment that gripped her when shethought of how quickly Hester had thrown Trevison over when she haddiscovered that he was penniless. And she had a desperate hope that thedismal aspect of Trevison's future would appall Hester--as it would werethe woman still the mercenary creature she had been ten years before. ButHester looked at her with grave imperturbability.
"I heard something about his trouble. About some land, isn't it? I didn'tlearn the particulars. Tell me about it--won't you, dearie?"
Rosalind's story of Trevison's difficulties did not have the effect thatshe anticipated.
"The poor, dear boy!" said Hester--and she seemed genuinely moved.Rosalind gulped hard over the shattered ruins of this last hope and gotup, fighting against an inhospitable impulse to order Hester away. Shemade some slight excuse and slipped to her room, where she stayed long,elemental passions battling riotously within her.
She realized now how completely she had yielded to the spell that themagnetic and impetuous exile had woven about her; she knew now that had hepressed her that day when he had told her of his love for her she musthave surrendered. She thought, darkly, of his fiery manner that day, ofhis burning looks, his hot, impulsive words, of his confidences. Hypocrisyall! For while they had been together he must have been thinking ofsending for Hester! He had been trifling with her! Faith in an ideal is asacred thing, and shattered, it lights the fires of hate and scorn, andthe emotions that seethed through Rosalind's veins as in her room sheconsidered Trevison's unworthiness, finally developed into a furiousvindictiveness. She wished dire, frightful calamities upon him, and then,swiftly reacting, her sympathetical womanliness forced the dark passionsback, and she threw herself on the bed, sobbing, murmuring: "Forgive me!"
Later, when she had made herself presentable, she went downstairs again,concealing her misery behind a steady courtesy and a smile that sometimeswas a little forced and bitter, to entertain her guest. It was a long,tiresome day, made almost unbearable by Hester's small talk. But she gotthrough it. And when, rather late in the afternoon, Hester inquired theway to the Diamond K, announcing her intention of visiting Trevisonimmediately, she gave no evidence of the shocked surprise that seized her.She coolly helped Hester prepare for the trip, and when she drove away inthe buckboard, stood on the ground at the edge of the porch, watching asthe buckboard and its occupant faded into the shimmering haze of theplains.
'Firebrand' Trevison Page 16