t to Jopalez, and it took her some time
to rearrange him in her mind as a person of wealth and standing. Having
so rearranged him, on sufficient evidence, she and her daughters became
most friendly, and had hopes of establishing valuable acquaintance in
the town. "It's not for myself I care," she would explain to Ross,
every day in the week and more on Sundays, "but for the girls. In that
dreadful Jopalez there was absolutely _no_ opportunity for them; but
here, with horses, there is no reason we should not have friends. You
must consider your sisters, Ross! Do be more cordial to Mr. Thaddler."

But Ross could not at present be cordial to anybody. His unexpected good
fortune, the freedom from hated cares, and chance to work out his mighty
theories on the faithful guinea-pig, ought to have filled his soul with
joy; but Diantha's cruel obstinacy had embittered his cup of joy. He
could not break with her; she had not refused him, and it was difficult
in cold blood to refuse her.

He had stayed away for two whole weeks, in which time the guinea-pigs
nibbled at ease and Diantha's work would have suffered except for her
mother's extra efforts. Then he went to see her again, miserable but
stubborn, finding her also miserable and also stubborn. They argued till
there was grave danger of an absolute break between them; then dropped
the subject by mutual agreement, and spent evenings of unsatisfying
effort to talk about other things.

Diantha and her mother called on Mrs. Warden, of course, admiring the
glorious view, the sweet high air, and the embowered loveliness of the
two ranch houses. Ross drew Diantha aside and showed her "theirs"--a
lovely little wide-porched concrete cottage, with a red-tiled roof, and
heavy masses of Gold of Ophir and Banksia roses.

He held her hand and drew her close to him.

He kissed her when they were safe inside, and murmured: "Come,
darling--won't you come and be my wife?"

"I will, Ross--whenever you say--but--!" She would not agree to give up
her work, and he flung away from her in reckless despair. Mrs. Warden
and the girls returned the call as a matter of duty, but came no more;
the mother saying that she could not take her daughters to a Servant
Girls' Club.

And though the Servant Girls' Club was soon removed to its new quarters
and Union House became a quiet, well-conducted hotel, still the two
families saw but little of each other.

Mrs. Warden naturally took her son's side, and