“Tony, I won’t be trying to manage fate—that’s what the doctor calls it—if I keep Rachel here until after——”
“Until after the Overland Limited leaves for San Francisco? Well, fate needs a little assistance once in a while. I think you may legitimately persuade Rachel to stay, if you can. What is her hurry, anyway?”
“I can’t find out, except that I imagine she’s afraid of meeting one of the men she most assuredly would meet if they knew she had come. She thinks Roger Barnes is in Vienna still.”
“She does? Ye gods! I think my knees will begin to tremble if I see their meeting imminent. Come, son, let’s try a race to the house. I’ll give you to the big, crooked apple tree. One—two—three—go!”
Juliet followed more slowly, thinking busily. Rachel had been very decided about going back into the city that night. Mrs. Huntington, Senior, was with friends, who had begged her daughter’s acceptance of their hospitality, and for the elder woman’s sake she had acquiesced. Rachel was a keeper of promises, Juliet knew. And to tell her of the probability of the doctor’s appearance would be a doubtful means of securing her detention. But if, for any reason, the doctor should fail to appear—Juliet made up her mind that she would give fate her chance until nine o’clock that night. If by that time Barnes had not come——
Juliet looked on eagerly while Anthony greeted Rachel. Her friend had never seemed to her so lovely as now, in her simple black gown, accentuating, as it did, the deep tone of her hair and eyes. Her face had gained in colour and contour in the Arizona climate—its tints were richer. The delicacy of her features was not changed, but their beauty was greater.
“You’ve lived much outdoors, I see,” said Anthony, when dinner was over and the three had gone out upon the porch, “and it’s been good for you.”
“I’ve even slept outdoors,” Rachel told them, “fully half the year; and ridden horseback every day. I can’t quite think how the electrics are going to seem in place of my gallop on Scot. The people on the ranch where we were have simply made me do the things they did. The owner was a dear old gentleman; he gave me Scot. He wanted to send him after me; but nurses have small use for horses, I believe,” she ended, smiling.
“That’s the plan, is it?”