She did not answer, but turned away abruptly and reached out both hands to Texas, who helped her down. “Good-bye, doctor,� she said coolly, standing with one hand on the negro’s shoulder.
The doctor climbed out. “Go to!� he said, smiling grimly; “I’m coming in to bandage your ankle. Don’t cry for the pink capsules again, Di.�
And Diana turned crimson with anger.
VI
IN the weeks that followed, while Diana nursed her sprained ankle in enforced retirement, changes were taking place at the Cross-Roads. Caleb Trench did not close his little shop, but he put out the new sign: “Caleb Trench, Attorney-at-law.�
The little rear room, into which he had carried Diana, was converted into an office, with a new table and another bookcase. Shot, the yellow mongrel, moved from the rear door to the front, and the great metamorphosis was complete. If we could only change our souls as easily as we do our surroundings, how magnificent would be the opportunities of life!
Caleb Trench had opened his law office, but as yet he had no clients, that is, no clients who were likely to pay him fees. The countrymen who traded with him and knew him to be honest came by the score to consult him about their difficulties, but they had no thought of paying for Caleb’s friendship, and Caleb asked them nothing. Yet his influence with them grew by that subtle power that we call personal magnetism, and which is, more truly, the magnetism of vital force and sometimes of a clear unbiased mind.
For the most part Caleb and the dog sat together in the office, and their friendship for each other was one of the natural outcomes of the master’s life. The solitary man loved his dog, and the dog, in turn, adored him and lay content for hours at his feet. It was the seventh week after he had carried Diana into his little shop, and as he sat there, by his desk, the moving sunshine slanting across the floor of the office, he recalled the instant when her head lay unconsciously on his shoulder and her cheek touched his rough coat. For one long moment his mind dwelt on it, and dwelt on her by his fire, with the glow of it in her eyes, her soft voice, her sweet manners, in which there was just a suggestion of condescension, until she forgot it and spoke to him naturally and freely. He saw her plainly again, as plainly as he saw the swaying boughs of the silver birch before his window. Then he thrust the thought resolutely away and turned almost with relief to face the shambling country youth who had entered without knocking.
“Well, Zeb?� he said shortly, but not unkindly.
“I stopped by ter see yo’, Mr. Trench,� Zeb Bartlett drawled slowly; “I thought mebbe yo’d help me out.�