s not yet.
She revolted against it in her heart, but in this matter were involved
more than herself and Elijah. She would see it through; she must.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Neither the guests of the Rio Vista nor the inhabitants of Ysleta were
as much disturbed over Uncle Sid's illiterate speech as was his sister.
None of these knew what Mrs. MacGregor knew, that a lifetime spent
before the mast and on the quarter deck is apt to counteract, in forms
of speech at least, even a careful early education. Not all Mrs.
MacGregor's polished manners and studied words could move a human heart
to a single throb, nor could Uncle Sid's uncouth motions and clipped
speech chill the loyalty of his many friends. His quaint humor that
touched lightly, though unerringly, upon the foibles of humanity,
blinded no one to the shrewd eyes that looked with no uncertain light
upon the line that divided right from wrong. In short, Uncle Sid was
sought after and welcomed where his polished sister was shunned,
avoided, and heartily disliked.

Thus it happened that when Helen had named a date for the long talked of
trip to the dam a goodly number of Uncle Sid's admirers were ready to go
with them. Winston had been duly notified and was ready for their
entertainment.

Helen was nearly if not quite as popular as Uncle Sid, though on
different grounds. Her air of reserve was wholly apart from the spirit
of camaraderie that welcomed Uncle Sid, but there was yet a kindly and
humane atmosphere surrounding her that was good to breathe. Her reserve,
instead of repelling, attracted and inspired a confidence and loyalty
that needed but an occasion to arouse it to open manifestation. Contrary
to her fears, had every secret which she was trying to bury in the
chambers of her heart been published, this loyalty would have stood
forth in fierce array between her and condemnation.

Early on the morning of the appointed day a jolly party formed in line
at the doors of the Rio Vista, and, reinforced by carriages from the
town, streamed out into the desert, along the banks of the Sangre de
Cristo, and paused where the last aqueduct of the great canal was nearly
completed. Here all was bustle and hurry, but confusion was absent.
Unshaped timbers came to men with squares and saws, ready hands took
them, and when squares and saws had done their work, passed them to
other hands that raised them on squeaking derricks; the groaning ropes
delivered their burdens t