[A VISITOR AT THE ESTANCIA]
Cynthia accordingly held her tongue. Nevertheless, that evening Richard Walton said to her across the dinner table:
"So you were, after all, molested by one of the hands, Miss Cynthia."
"Molested!" cried Robert Daventry indignantly.
Cynthia's face flamed.
"Who told you?" she asked of Richard Walton.
"Pedro."
Cynthia had not thought of the Gaucho. He had seemed so entirely uninterested, so utterly unalarmed.
"'Molested' is too strong a word," she said hastily. She now meant to make as light of the encounter as she possibly could. "It was very likely my fault. I got out of the trap and walked toward the wheat. It may be that the man fancied I wished to speak to him."
"What did he do?"