“Her good sense told her,” Romeo answered.
“I wasn't talking to you,” Mathews retorted, making all laugh—and even Darrell smiled—but he looked very pale, and Everett began to feel anxious, to see his pallor.
The conversation had now drifted to the subject of the coming survey of the rancho.
“I heard that the surveyor will be on the ground by the first of October,” Miller said.
“All right; that will give us plenty of time,” Gasbang observed.
Everett said something to Romeo, who then went and whispered to his father, whereupon Old Hancock nodded an assent and in a few moments said:
“Well, my friends, let us go home. For the present I don't see that anything can be done. Mr. Darrell looks fatigued, and I don't wonder at it, for we have bored him nearly to death. Let him go to bed and rest.”
Evidently Mathews, Gasbang and others had no idea of going home so early, but as Darrell said nothing, they reluctantly arose and took their departure.
If Darrell had obeyed the impulse of his heart when he went up-stairs to his bed-chamber, he would have taken his wife in his arms and, with a kiss, made his peace with her; for he knew her to be true, and always acting from the best motives. But there was that streak of perversity within, which impelled him to do or say the wrong thing, when at the same time an inner voice was admonishing him to do the opposite.
“I am sorry, William, that I kept that matter of the land purchase from you. Believe me, my husband, I did so out of a desire to avoid discussions always painful to me. You seemed so happy here, that I hated to bring up for argument any disagreeable subject. It was a mistake; I regret it.”