"I mean this," laughed Ydo. "That he," pointing to Hayden, "came to me about noon, frantic over the disappearance of his claims on Eldorado. After he had explained the circumstances to me I knew in a minute that thou wert the woman. I didn't have to gaze into my crystal or run the cards to see that. But why, why? I knew that you didn't take them for—well, reasons that others might have taken them for; but why take them at all?"
There was no gainsaying Ydo. "Because I thought some one else would take them if I didn't," faltered Marcia.
"Meaning me!" Ydo's laughter seemed merciless to Marcia's shrinking ears. "I don't mind the implication. But Wilfred, Bobby, to fancy I would do anything so clumsy! Who says that women are not cruel to women?"
"Ydo, forgive me," pleaded Marcia, "I am humiliated, ashamed." Her voice trembled.
Ydo's green eyes twinkled upon her. "Oh, la! la!" with a friendly, careless little push. "Sweet, dainty lady of the butterflies, I have nothing to forgive. I comprehend you, and he who understands all forgives all. It is simply that you do not understand me. Shall the violet understand the orchid? It is not a thing to think of again, so forget it for ever.
"And speaking of orchids, Mr. Hayden, may I have a few to wear to‑night from that vase yonder? They will just suit my gown."
She moved with him across the room, leaving Marcia and Ames standing together; but she did not stretch out her hand to take the orchids he offered, but stood looking at him with her dazzling smile, sweetened, softened with some touch of feeling so deep and yet so evanescent that he could not fathom it.
"Little brother of the wilds, now that you have won Cinderella and Eldorado, as I predicted, I wish you a divine unrest. It is the best I Can hope for you. Eldorado and domesticity mean the fishy eye, the heavy jowl, and the expanded waistcoat; and remember that although the red gods may be silent so long that you will forget them, yet there will come a day when they will call and you will hear nothing else. Then, as you would keep your happiness, get up and follow—follow 'to the camp of proved desire and known delight.'"
"Advice from one about to settle down—don't settle." He strove to speak lightly, but failed.
"I settle! Don't harbor any such vagaries. We may meet again, oh, I don't mean in this sort of a way, I mean where the open road winds on like a great river, and the pines go marching up and down hill, and the blue smoke of the tent‑fires curls up to the morning skies. We may meet again, Bobby, on the outward trail that leads from Eldorado to Arcady."