"But, Mammy, you are mistaken. They are here. They came home with us."
"Yas'm, dey done come home, sure 'nuf, but dey ain't eatin' now, honey."
Again the old woman shook her head. She did not answer. She turned troubled eyes first on the two young Mexican maids by the doorway, then on Mr. Hartley.
"Father, do you know what this means?" demanded Genevieve.
"No, dearie, I must say I don't," frowned Mr. Hartley.
"Then I shall find out," avowed the mistress of the Six Star Ranch. "Mammy Lindy, please seat my guests, and have the supper served right away. I'll find Mr. Tim."
"But, my dear," remonstrated Mrs. Kennedy, gently, "wouldn't it be better if you ate your own supper first—with your guests?"
Genevieve shook her head. Her face flushed painfully.
"I know, Aunt Julia, of course, what you mean. You don't think it's civil in me to run off like this. But it's the boys—something is the matter. They always eat with us. Why, they may be thinking we don't want them, Aunt Julia. Please, please excuse me, everybody," she entreated, as she ran from the room.