"Oh, cattle and sheep, I suppose. There's no other reason, is there?"
Corliss was silent, thinking of his brother Will.
"Unless—Will—" she said, reading his thought.
He shook his head, "That would be no reason for—for our quarreling, would it?"
She laughed. "Why, who has quarreled? I'm sure I haven't."
"But you don't seem the same—since Will left."
"Neither do you, John. You haven't called at the rancho for—well, about a year."
"And then I was told to stay away even longer than that."
"Oh, you mustn't mind Dad. He growls—but he won't bite."
Corliss glanced up at her. His steady gray eyes were smiling, but his lips were grave. "Would it make any difference if I did come?"