"Ah—excuse me," interposed Bowles, "perhaps I would better explain. I did meet your daughter, very informally to be sure, on the morning of my arrival at Chula Vista. It was that which caused my embarrassment—always painful when people fail to recognize you, you know—and especially with a lady. Er—what do all these prairie-dogs live on, Mrs. Lee? We have passed so many of them, but I don't see——"
"Mr. Bowles," said Mrs. Lee, placing her hand once more upon his arm and looking at him with an anxious mother's eyes, "I want you to meet my daughter again. She was in New York all winter, you know, and perhaps you have some friends in common. Anyway, I wish we could see more of you—it would be such a pleasure to me, and Dixie——"
She let her eyes express her longing for the improvement of Dixie's diction—a certain approval, too, of Bowles—but he did not respond at once. Fighting within his breast was a mad, fatuous desire to stand in the presence of his beloved, to hear the music of her voice and behold the swiftness and grace of her comings and goings; but almost as an echo in his ears he could hear the mocking formalism of her answers, and feel the scorn in her eyes as she sneered at him for pursuing her. His face became graver as he thought, and then, with the ready wit of his kind, he framed up a tactful excuse.
"Oh, thank you," he said. "It's very kind of you, I'm sure—and there is nothing I should enjoy more—but under the circumstances I am afraid I shall have to decline. You know of course that, whatever my life may have been in the past, at present I am nothing but a hired hand—and a very poor hand at that, I am afraid. And since Mr. Lee has asked you not to make exceptions among the men, I should be very sorry indeed to go against his wishes."
"Oh, that is not the rule, Mr. Bowles," protested Mrs. Lee. "We make exceptions to it all the time, and I am sure Henry would be glad to have you come. Some evening after supper, you know. I want so much to have Dixie meet people of refinement and education, and while for the moment you may be working as a common cowboy, of course we know——"
"You know very little, as a matter of fact," interposed Bowles; "and I am sorry that circumstances make it impossible for me to discuss my antecedents. But has it not occurred to you, Mrs. Lee, that, considering the attitude of the cowboys in the past, it might—well, my motives might be misunderstood—if I should call."
"Why, surely, Mr. Bowles," began Mrs. Lee, her eyes big with wonder, "you are not—er—afraid of what the cowboys——"
"Oh, no, no!" protested Bowles, blushing to the tips of his sunburned ears. "Certainly not! I did not mean the cowboys."
"Well, what then?" demanded Mrs. Lee, in perplexity.
Mr. Bowles hesitated a moment, looking straight ahead to where Chula Vista rose between the horses' ears.