During the remainder of the day Juanita avoided Greg Carker.
Evening came. Within the house the boys were singing the old college songs to the accompaniment of a piano as Juanita stole away alone and listened a long time from a corner of the veranda. Tears dimmed her eyes, and she whispered soft words to herself.
"I know I'm a veree fooleesh girl," she said. "I cannot help eet. Eet ees not to be that he should care for me."
Her heart throbbed with bitter disappointment. She left the house behind and wandered away through the dusky June night. Crossing the road and the fields, she came at last to Ripple Lake, on the edge of which she lingered while the moon crept up in the east.
"I ought to return," she murmured. "If they mees me, they will become alarmed. But I cannot go back there yet—I cannot go back!"
Her restless spirit led her round the shore of the lake until she finally found herself on a bluff that rose from the water's edge. The moon was now behind her back. At the brink of the bluff she peered over into the shadow below.
With a smothered cry, she turned and found herself face to face with—Jose Murillo.
"It is you, Juanita!" he exclaimed, in Spanish. "All day I have waited and watched for the opportunity to speak with you!"
"Señor Murillo, why did you come here? You promised——"