f an hour later, the daughter, Lou-Jane, appeared arrayed for
conquest. She was undeniably handsome, in spite of a certain coarseness
that made Hartigan subtly uneasy, though he could not have told why. She
was of the rare vigorous type that is said to have appeared in Ireland
after many survivors of the great Armada were washed ashore on the
rugged western coast. The mingling of the Irish and Spanish blood in her
had resulted in black eyes, black eyebrows, and red, or golden-red hair,
combined with a clear, brilliant Irish complexion. She was lively,
energetic, rather clever, and tremendously taken with the new preacher.

Jim was naturally shy with women, as most big men seem to be, and the
masterful Lou-Jane smote him with utter confusion. She prattled on about
the tea, about the church, the Rev. Dr. Jebb, the local people, the
farm, national politics, dry-farming, horses, cows and alfalfa, with the
definite purpose of finding out his interests. Getting the best response
on the topic of horses, she followed it up.

"You must come and see my pony. He's a beauty. I got first prize on him
as girl rider at the fair last year. I'm so glad you like horses."

She laid her hand on his arm a dozen times to guide him here or there;
she took his hand at last and held on, to his utter embarrassment, long
after he had helped her over a fence, and looked disappointed when she
got no flirtatious response. She led out her saddle pony and laughingly
said:

"Here, give me a hand."

Grasping her raised foot, he lifted her with a sweep to the pony's bare
back.

"My, you're strong," was her flattering comment, and she swung the
hackima and loped the pony round the field and back to the stable,
delighted to see in his eye a frank glow of admiration for her skill.

"Will you lift me down?" she said merrily; not that she had the least
need of help, but she liked to feel those strong arms about her; and as
he did so, she made herself quite unnecessarily limp and clinging.

Jim did not usually lack words, but Lou-Jane was so voluble that he was
completely silenced. At the stable, where Ma Hoomer was milking,
Lou-Jane delayed for a moment to whisper: "Stay here till I come for
you."

Then she tripped on with Jim at her heels. As they entered the house
Hartigan looked at his watch.

"Now please don't hurry," said Lou-Jane. "Ma'll be back in a few
minutes, then we'll have a cup of tea. Sit here; you'll find it more
comfortable," and s