thoughtless she was.

While they talked, she took fuller observation of him, hoping to find
an answer to her great question. He wore a white shirt--this had
flashed upon her first of all. Further scrutiny told her that he had
better clothes than his calling would seem to allow, and in better
condition. His suit was gray, and though somewhat worn and
unfurbished, was evidently of fine quality. There was little about his
attire which would have attracted attention in a Northern city except,
possibly, the wide-brimmed hat and the boots with high heels. He was
about thirty years of age. In the shack shone a polished spur--there
seemed to be nothing else of cowboy accoutrement. She could not make
him out. He seemed taciturn at times and eyed her strangely.

Conversation can take such quick turns. Words, even mere things, can
pop up with such unlooked-for allusions. They had drifted into some
remarks upon sheep-herding, a trying occupation. Mr. Brown attested
its monotonous and wearing nature.

"Yes," she said, "it must be so. No doubt you are always glad enough,
Mr. Brown, when the time comes to get back home again."

"Yes--I prefer town to this. But I can't exactly say that it is like
going home nowadays. I have a house just outside of town on the
county-seat road. But a house is n't home."

"Oh, no, indeed. But a house is a very good thing to have--even in
this mild climate." She paused a moment. "But Texans," she added,
"keep the windows open so much, night and day, that one might just as
well sleep out of doors. There is no difference really."

Considered in all its bearings, this answer seemed an improvement; it
encouraged her for the moment. But it seemed impossible for them to
sit out there and talk in a man-to-man relation; they were Society.
The very phrases of society,--even the flowers, the supper, the yawning
shack,--everything, it seemed to her, was against it. It is in the
nature of things; and the Devil is on the man's side. They were Man
and Woman, sitting out there in that little circle of fire. It seemed
to her at times as if some terrible light were being thrown upon them
with a burning focus.

One precaution she tried to keep constantly before her. She must not
tell him her affairs--nothing of her situation in the world. It did
not seem advisable even to tell him the nature of her errand to the
county-seat; too much might be reasoned from it, of her helplessness.
Her grea