Haldane, with expressions of sympathy, led her to the door, and returning, sat staring straight before him with a curious expression. "I don't know that the stolid, emotionless person is not far the happiest," he said at last. "She must have suffered a good deal—poor soul; and, even allowing that you had not seen those pitiful papers, I'm doubtful if you acted quite wisely, Boone. However, the question now is: how are we going to use them?"
"Nobody but ourselves must see them," I managed to answer, savage as I was.
"I would make one exception," said the owner of Bonaventure. "That one is the man responsible. It can be no enlightenment to him, and the fact that he would not suspect us of any reluctance to make the most of our power, strengthens our ability to deal with him."
Our conference ended shortly, and when we joined the others I saw that Lucille Haldane had taken Redmond's daughter under her wing. How she had managed it, of course I do not know; but the latter appeared comforted already, and there was a gentle dimness instead of the former hard glitter in her eyes. Then, and it was not for the first time, I felt that I could have bowed down and worshiped the Mistress of Bonaventure.
It was evident that Boone had also been observant, for he afterwards said, with unusual gravity: "Women resembling Miss Lucille Haldane are the salt of this sorrowful world. There was only one I ever knew to compare with her, and she, being too good for it, was translated to what, if only because she was called there, must be a better."
I agreed with his first statement entirely, and took his word for the rest; but made no answer. Boone did not appear to desire one, and again a strange longing filled his eyes while the shadow crept into his face. I remembered it was written that the heart knows its own bitterness.
CHAPTER XXV
A CHANGE OF TACTICS
The fires of sunset were fading low down on the verge of the prairie when I spoke for the last time with Beatrice Haldane, as it happened, beside the splendid wheat. It was changing from green to ochre, and there was a play of varied light athwart the rigid blades, which in its own way emphasized the symmetry of the tall figure in pale-tinted draperies. Miss Haldane was stately of presence, but it was symbolic of the difference between us that while we of the prairie ever turned our eyes instinctively towards the West, she stood looking back towards civilization and the darkening East, with a cold green brilliancy burning behind her head. It matched the face projected against it, which was that of a statue, perfect in modeling, as I still think, if almost as colorless and serene. Beatrice Haldane was very beautiful, and every curve and fold of the simple dress was immaculate and harmonious because it seemed a part of her.
My threadbare jean clung shapelessly about me, there was thick dust on my old leggings and a rent in my broad hat, which trifles were, by comparison, not without significance. Beatrice Haldane was clearly born to take a leading place, with the eyes of many upon her, where life pulsed fastest in the older world. I was a plain rancher, conscious, in spite of theories concerning its dignity, of the brand of rude labor and the stain of the soil; but at least my eyes were opened so that I had seen the utter impossibility of a once cherished dream.