had took her. Pore kid! She's had a hard time, an' every man
she ever knew, but me, done her dirt. Even her husband." Buddy scowled.

After a moment Gray said, quietly, "So, she's married?"

"She was. He's dead, or something. I was bashful about callin' around
to see her, not havin' anything to talk about but school an' oil wells,
but she took an interest right away, 'specially in the wells. You'd
ought to hear the story of her life, Mr. Gray. It's as sad as any
novel. You see, her folks had lots of money, but her ma died an' her pa
was too busy to be bothered, so he sent her off to a convent. Them nuns
at the convent was so cruel to her that she run away--"

"And went on the stage."

"How'd you know?"

"I didn't. But--the stage is the usual refuge for convent-bred girls
who are abused. I've met several. Did she--Was the old home in
Virginia?"

"Sure! Mebbe you know her!" Buddy cried.

"Perhaps. I seem to remember the story. What is her name?"

"Arline Montague."

The elder man shook his head. "You said something about a marriage. I
dare say she married some rich John whose family disapproved of the
match--so many show girls have been deceived like that. You can't
imagine the prejudice of those Fifth Avenue parents--"

"That's what she done. An' he went off an' joined the French Legion of
Honor an' was killed."

"Foreign Legion, no doubt."

"Anyhow, he never made no pervision for her. But she wouldn't of
touched a penny of his money if he'd left it to her, she's that
honorable." Now that the lover had fairly launched himself upon the
engrossing life story of his sweetheart he was in deep earnest, and his
listener's quick understanding, his sympathy, his grasp of the
situation, was a spur to further confidences. It was a blessing to have
a friend so old, so wise, and so worldly.

"What is the estate you mentioned?"

"Oh, that's her own! It's all she had to fall back on. It's bein'
settled up now an' she'll have her money before long."

"The old Virginia homestead and the slaves--?"

"Good thing she met me when she did, for them lawyers had it all tied
up in court and wouldn't let go till she paid their fees."

"A providential meeting, truly. You fixed that up, of course, and got
rid of the wretched bloodsuckers. I've done much the same thing, more
than once. Now, one other question--how does she happen to be in
Dallas? I infer from your account that she is a model of virtue, and
that she accepted y