The only relief she dared give herself was occasional disapproval of the young cattleman in her talks with Lucy. Louise was surprised and puzzled by the varying moods in which the girl received these criticisms. Sometimes she kept silence or quickly changed the subject. Rarely she tossed her head and joined in the condemnation with an angry sparkle of the eye. Or, again, with flushing cheek, she defended him from Miss Dent’s aspersions. Louise decided, with a fond smile, that her vagaries of mood were due to pique at the lack of more constant attentions from Conrad. For the young woman, to her father’s and Miss Dent’s loving amusement, was proving herself adept in the art of queening it over a court of masculine admirers. What with walks over the mesa, rides and picnics up the canyon, music of evenings, and Sunday afternoon calls, Lucy was leading a gay life, and Louise, as her chaperon, a busy one. Being a normal, buoyant-hearted girl, Lucy enjoyed the gayety and the attention and admiration showered upon her in such copious measure for their own sake, and she was glad of them also because, together with her household cares, they kept her too well occupied for sad thoughts.
So the days passed until mid-June was at hand and the time come for the trial of José Maria Melgares. Curtis Conrad was in Golden as one of the principal witnesses for the prosecution—his first visit to the town since the Spring round-up. Lucy, glancing frequently down the street, was trying to interest herself in Miss Dent’s conversation as they sat together on the veranda. They spoke of the trial, and Lucy said she had seen Mr. Conrad on his way to the court-house when she went down town to market.
“I’ve been disappointed in Mr. Conrad,” said Louise; “I don’t understand how he can talk so recklessly about people needing to be killed. To me it is very repellent. You know how he speaks about Mr. Baxter.”
Lucy’s head went up. “But Mr. Baxter is a very bad man!” she exclaimed. “He has been responsible for a great deal of suffering. Just think of Melgares and his poor wife! But for Mr. Baxter they might still be living happily on their little ranch. And he’s done many other things just as wicked and unjust. Oh, he’s a very bad man, and I can’t blame Mr. Conrad for feeling that way about him.” She broke off, flushing to her brows, then went on more quietly: “But I don’t think, Dearie, that Mr. Conrad means half he says when he talks that way; it’s just his way of feeling how brave he is.”
“If he does not mean it, he should not speak so recklessly of serious matters,” Louise responded with decision. “He must have a cruel nature, or he would not harbor such ideas.”
Lucy leaned forward, her face aglow. “Indeed, no, Dearie! Mr. Conrad isn’t cruel; he’s really very tender-hearted—just think of the way he carried that wounded bird all the way to Golden to have its leg fixed. And one day when we were walking on the mesa, he was so distressed because he accidentally stepped on a little horned toad. It’s unjust to call him cruel, Dearie!”
Her glance darted down the street again, and she saw Curtis nearing her gate. His quick, energetic stride and eager face were like a trumpet call to her youth and her womanhood. Forgetting all but the fact of his presence, she felt her heart leap to meet him with joyful welcome. But instantly came remembrance and reaction, and she greeted him with unusual gravity of manner.
Conrad wanted them at the ranch for the Fourth of July. “We are to have a big barbecue and baile,” he said. “Both the Castletons are coming this year to look things over, and I wrote Ned that if Mrs. Ned was coming with him perhaps it would amuse her if we did something of the sort. The idea seemed to just strike his gait, and he wrote back at once to go ahead and whoop it up for all I’m worth. Mrs. Ned and Mrs. Turner are both coming, and I’m asking a lot of people from all over the Territory. I want you two ladies and Mr. Bancroft to be sure to come out the day before the Fourth and stay at least until the day after, and as much longer as you find convenient. My brother Homer is coming on next week for the rest of the Summer, and he’ll be there too.”
Lucy was delighted, clapped her hands, and declared it would be great fun—of course they would go. Repugnant to the idea but knowing that only one course was seemly, Miss Dent gave smiling acquiescence. As they talked, Curtis telling them of the great wealth of the Castleton brothers, the rivalry of the two ladies, the dash and beauty and vogue of Mrs. Turner, and the Spanish ancestry of Mrs. Ned, Lucy’s eyes continually sought his face. Her spirits began to rise, and soon they were gayly tilting at each other after their usual custom, she all smiles and dimples and animation, and he beaming with admiration. They went to the conservatory to see the tanager and presently brought it back with them, telling Miss Dent that they were going to set it free. Lucy stood beside him as they watched it soar away through the sunlight, a flash of silvery pink flame, and it seemed to her that their mutual interest in the little creature had made a bond between them and given her an understanding of his character deeper and truer than any one else could have.
Conrad went down the hill, whistling softly a merry little tune, his thoughts dwelling tenderly upon Lucy. He wished her to enjoy the barbecue and baile even more than she expected—it was to be her first experience of that sort—and he began to plan little details that might add to her pleasure. So absorbed was he and so pleasant his thoughts that for a time he quite forgot the Delafield affair. But it came to mind again when Bancroft asked him, as they talked together at the door of the bank, if he had had any more trouble with José Gonzalez.