"I expect you thought me dull," said Jimmy with an apologetic smile. "Well, for some days I've been pondering things, and I'm not much used to the exercise. In a way, you're accountable. You inquired not long since if I knew where I went?"
"Then you got some illumination at the ranch?"
"You're keen. I got disturbed."
"Does to stop at a ranch disturb one?" Laura asked in a careless voice.
"I expect it depends on your temperament," Jimmy replied and knitted his brows. "Kelshope is a model ranch; you feel all goes as it ought to go. When you leave things alone, they don't go like that. At Jardine's you get a sense of plan and effort. The old fellow and his daughter are keenly occupied, and their occupation, so to speak, is fruitful. The trouble is, mine is not."
Laura saw that when he, some time since, apologized for his loafing, her remarks had carried weight. Jimmy had begun to ponder where he went, and she wondered whether he would see he ought to return to the cotton mill. Still she did not mean to talk about this.
"You stopped Miss Jardine's horse?" she said.
"I did not stop the horse. I tried, but that's another thing. If I had not meddled, I expect Miss Jardine would have conquered the nervous brute and I would not have got a nasty kick."
"Oh, well," said Laura. "Sometimes to meddle is rash, but your object was good."
Then Stannard came to the veranda steps and looked about the terrace.