CLEARY
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY
 
 LIKE A 
 GALLANT LADY 
 
 BY 
 
 KATE M. CLEARY 
 
 1 The World's male chivalry has perished out. 
 But Women are Knights Errant to the last. 
 And if Cervantes had been Shakespeare too. 
 He'd made his Don, a Donna." 
 
 E. B. BROWNING 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 WAY AND WILLIAMS 
 
 1897
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY WAY & WILLIAMS 
 THE COVER IS FROM A DESIGN BY MR. WILL BRADLEY.
 
 TO NEBRASKA. 
 
 To the village and the plain 
 
 Of a land of toil and pain, 
 Of a land where drouth devoureth 
 
 Making labor void and vain; 
 Where ambitions cease to glow, 
 
 Where high hopes are buried low, 
 And the mad mirage of other 
 
 Lands, the sweetest thing we know. 
 
 To a land that yet shall be 
 
 Fair and fertile, proud and free, 
 Golden grain and happy homesteads, 
 
 ' Twixt the east and western sea 
 From a woman whom the west 
 
 Harbored bride, and slave and guest, 
 Has been kind to has been cruel 
 
 And has given worst and best!
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Here comes the lady!" 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 ** "\X7"HEN I have enough money 
 VV to make the folks barring 
 mother, God bless her! consider me 
 respectable, I'll go home, marry Edith, 
 and live happy ever after. " 
 
 Jack Jardine, glowing with approba 
 tion of his righteous resolution, entered 
 the Owl-King saloon and treated his 
 decision with gravity and decorum. 
 Six years before, when he left the home 
 of his forefathers beyond the ocean, 
 he bore with him the very willing 
 consent of his paternal relative, the 
 plaintive protest of his mother, four
 
 2 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 thousand pounds, three trunks and 
 the generously accorded advice of sev 
 eral friends not to make a fool of 
 himself again. From this recommen 
 dation the deduction may be made 
 that Jack Jardine had not been as 
 wise as he was handsome which would, 
 indeed, have been a good deal to ex 
 pect. The week of his arrival in New 
 York he lost one thousand pounds. 
 The remainder he invested in a cat 
 tle ranch in Nebraska. His invest 
 ment brought handsome returns. Even 
 in the seasons of drouth that fol 
 lowed he was fairly successful. He 
 was shrewd, alert, daring, some said 
 unscrupulous. At all events, he in 
 creased the boundaries of his property, 
 put money in bank, built a house and 
 contradicted generally the charitable 
 predictions of his people in England 
 that when he no longer felt the re 
 straint of their presence his downfall 
 would be rapid and sure as the stick 
 of a rocket. 
 
 Suddenly a whistle sounded. The
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 3 
 
 men in the saloon bolted for the door 
 and tore wildly down the street. Jar- 
 dine finished his whisky, and, in lei 
 surely fashion, followed them. The 
 abrupt exodus signified the approach 
 of the train from the East, which came 
 in every second day. The population 
 of Bubble invariably assembled in force 
 on these occasions. A freight car, in 
 which a couple of boards laid length 
 wise did service for seats, accommo 
 dated passengers. From this com 
 partment stepped a young and pretty 
 woman. Her gown, the poise of her 
 head, the way she walked, distinguished 
 her as city-bred. Her glance swept 
 her surroundings. She saw the dull, 
 red depot and section-house, the star 
 ing crowd of flannel-shirted, top-booted 
 men, of clumsy women, of gaping 
 children; the brand new buildings, many 
 in process of erection, straggling across 
 riven cornfields; the bluffs, some steep, 
 some sloping, which encircled the bowl- 
 shaped hollow of the embryo town.
 
 4 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Hotel? Imperial hotel, Miss? 
 Check?" 
 
 She surrendered a bit of brass to the 
 lad soliciting her custom, and turned 
 to follow him up the solitary sidewalk 
 the town boasted. Jack Jardine, loung 
 ing against the station-house, became 
 mechanically deferential as she drew 
 nearer. He straightened up, and put 
 his pipe in his pocket. A startled 
 look flashed into his face. He turned 
 quickly to the conductor. 
 
 "Who is she, Wilkins?" 
 
 Wilkins was a person of importance. 
 He possessed the latest news, an 
 swered innumerable questions, and was 
 supposed to know the personal history 
 of each passenger. 
 
 "Her name is Lyle a relative of 
 Rob's, I suppose. She had a through 
 ticket." 
 
 ' ' Lyle ? " echoed Jardine sharply. 
 
 "That's it. Catch on to the chap 
 we hauled without getting wrecked. 
 Ain't he a daisy? Well, so long." 
 He swung himself on the moving train,
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 5 
 
 threw a kiss to a beaming Bohemian 
 girl on the platform and went rocking 
 westward. 
 
 ' ' Well, " drawled a voice of disgusted 
 astonishment at Jardine's elbow, "jest 
 look at that ther' feller! I'll be dog- 
 goned!" 
 
 Jardine looked up and saw the pas 
 senger to whom Wilkins had so irrever 
 ently referred. He was a youngish 
 man, squat and very stout. His round, 
 heavy-featured face was crimson and 
 clean-shaven. His nose was a pro 
 nounced pug. His mouth was large and 
 smiling. His eyes in one of which a 
 monocle was screwed were small, 
 twinkling, friendly. He wore a showy 
 plaid suit, abbreviated as to' coat and 
 voluminous as to trousers . The helmet 
 of the British tourist adorned his head. 
 A massive gold chain, from which 
 a bunch of seals depended, dangled 
 across his vest. His satin tie was pink 
 as the skin of a Bougereau nymph. In 
 one yellow-gloved hand he carried two 
 satchels. The other gripped a bundle
 
 6 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 of canes and umbrellas, and held a 
 long, steel chain to which was attached 
 a diminutive dog. The people on the 
 platform contemplated him with disre 
 spectful interest as he approached Jar- 
 dine, set down the satchels, held out his 
 hand. 
 
 ' ' How d'ye do ?" he asked pleasantly, 
 showing a mouthful of big, sound, white 
 teeth. Jardine, blue-shirted and cordu 
 roy-clad, wearing battered top boots and 
 an ancient hat, fairly gasped. 
 
 "It's Jennings!" 
 
 Mr. Jennings smiled a vast wel 
 come for himself. "Yes," he assented 
 cordially, "it's me." 
 
 Jardine's ringers just touched the yel 
 low kid glove. ' ' I suppose, " he vent 
 ured, "you're out in this country on 
 sport." 
 
 "Partly sport, dear boy. Chiefly 
 business. " 
 
 ' ' Oh, by the way, " said Jardine, as a 
 recollection struck him, ' ' I haven't for 
 gotten that fifty pounds I borrowed from 
 you once. I did not know where to
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 7 
 
 send it since my mother mentioned that 
 your father had been left money and 
 had taken his family to town." 
 
 ' ' I had forgotten it, I assure you, " 
 with a wave of one ham-like hand. 
 ' ' I got your address from your lawyers 
 when I made up my mind to come 
 out here. Beastly country, isn't it? 
 And why, my dear Jack, do you wear 
 such shocking clothes?" Jardine red 
 dened at the familiarity. Evidently 
 Jennings considered that the democracy 
 of the West rendered impertinence per 
 missible. 
 
 "We don't require fine raiment 
 here," he explained patiently. 
 
 "But," persisted Peter Jennings, 
 1 4 1 should think you'd dress as we 
 do at home, once in a while, if only 
 to astonish the natives." 
 
 "I shall allow you that privilege," 
 Jardine murmured blandly. 
 
 Peter glanced around at the few in 
 dividuals who stood grinning at him. 
 
 "Indeed," he gurgled, pluming him 
 self, "it does look as if they'd never 
 seen anyone like me before."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "They never have, Jennings," Jack 
 assured him, "never!" 
 
 They walked up town together. 
 Jennings was curious about his fellow 
 passenger, and decidedly enthusiastic. 
 
 ' ' Prettiest girl I've seen since I left 
 England, 'pon my word. I must say 
 she was not at all inclined to be soci 
 able, though I shall manage to be reg 
 ularly introduced. Never would have 
 thought you people out here would be 
 formal about such things. Hello! what's 
 this?" Jardine had paused before a 
 long, low frame building. At the door 
 a skinny little girl was beating a tin 
 pan vigorously with a poker. Jennings 
 regarded her much as he might have 
 done a trained chimpanzee, and she re 
 turned the look with interest. 
 
 "The hotel," returned Jardine. 
 
 "It is, is it? Why don't you ask 
 me to your place?" 
 
 "I'm positive you couldn't endure it. 
 It's only an apology for a house. A 
 good bit out, too. Then the man who 
 does my work can't cook. I'll see you
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 9 
 
 again." He nodded and walked off. 
 
 "The devilish old Jardine pride," 
 muttered Jennings. "He can't forget 
 that I'm the son of his father's butler." 
 
 In truth Jardine had considered that 
 fact less than that the man who had 
 renewed acquaintanceship with him was 
 ill-bred. He plunged across the street 
 to a small frame building which bore 
 the sign: 
 
 PRIOR, LYLE & DUDLEY, 
 
 GRAIN AND REAL ESTATE. 
 
 Jardine flung open the door and 
 walked in. The building consisted of 
 two rooms. The furniture of the front 
 room was a high desk, that was half 
 counter, a sheet-iron stove, a couple of 
 chairs and a lounge. Cartoons from a 
 political paper were pinned on the 
 walls. A sallow little man sat by the 
 window. 
 
 "Prior," cried Jardine, "you recol 
 lect that girl Mark Dudley told us
 
 10 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 about Rob Lyle's sister? He showed 
 us her picture. His sweetheart, you 
 know. " 
 
 Prior looked up from his paper. His 
 eyes had a trick of contracting and ex 
 panding like the eyes of a cat. 
 
 "What about her?'' 
 
 "She came in on the train, just 
 now." 
 
 Prior dropped his feet from the chair 
 back. "Did, eh? She's late for the 
 funeral. " 
 
 Jardine pushed his hat back on his 
 neck, and stood leaning one elbow on 
 the high counter. ' ' Suppose, " he asked, 
 looking moodily at Prior, ' 'Rob lets out 
 the truth sometime when he's full 
 what then?" 
 
 Prior cackled. 
 
 ' ' Oh, trust Lyle to hold his tongue 
 about that business. He's got sense 
 enough to keep still." 
 
 A wagon laden with corn rumbled 
 on the scale without. Prior rose to 
 weigh it. Jardine sat staring out 
 through the grimy window. Suddenly 
 he pulled himself up.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY II 
 
 "I'm off for a ride," he said, and 
 went out. Prior glowered after him. 
 "Confound a fellow with a conscience 
 anyhow," he said. 
 
 Jardine saddled his horse himself 
 at the livery barn across the street, 
 swung into the saddle and turned north. 
 Past the hardware store, a couple of 
 drug-stores, the postoffice which was 
 also the general store and harness shop 
 by a few box-like residences, up the 
 hill he went, then down on the other 
 side, over a bridge, and off across the 
 swelling prairies. It was an afternoon 
 in early December. The first snow of 
 the year had fallen and vanished, and 
 the road, roughened by successive frost 
 and thaw, stretched before in irregular 
 brown ridges. Overhead and toward 
 the east the sky was of tenderest blue, 
 all swirled with streaks of rose. In 
 the creek the shallow water was filmed 
 with ice. "The gentleness of rain 
 was in the wind." To the skeleton 
 trees clung leaves of shriveled saffron. 
 The roadsides were rank with the silveri-
 
 12 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ness. of thistledown, the sienna of with 
 ered goldenrod, the dun tangle of dead ' 
 sunflowers. Everywhere was sky and 
 prairie and silence oppressive to sad 
 ness. A ground squirrel sat up, then 
 scurried away. A covey of quails 
 whirred before the horse's feet. Shad 
 ows crept stealthily up the draws. 
 An amethystine haze softened the 
 outlines of the bluffs. 
 
 "Night, by Jove! " said Jardine. " I 
 must get back. " He wheeled his horse 
 around and gave it a pat on the flank. 
 The animal fell into a long lope, and 
 swiftly bore him townward. The face 
 of the girl from the East haunted him. 
 Its persistent presence irritated him. 
 He desired to see her again. He 
 wondered if Rob had since appeared 
 and taken her out of town. Perhaps 
 she had hired a rig and gone out to 
 him. In what condition would she 
 find him? 
 
 Away to the east as he rode was 
 vastness, desolateness, a darkening sky ; 
 to the west were fields flooded with
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 13 
 
 lemonish light. Over these an ocean 
 of faintest green seemed to pulse and 
 intermerge, an ocean that was rippled 
 with gold, flecked with pearl and 
 blurred with a vapory violet. 
 
 The girl with the tin pan and the 
 poker was beating the summons to 
 supper when he went into the ram 
 bling building which rejoiced in the name 
 of ' ' The Imperial Hotel. " The only 
 light in the passage came from a door 
 farther down. Jardine almost fell over 
 a short man, a chain and a dog. He 
 apologized absently as he recognized 
 Peter Jennings. He had forgotten the 
 existence of Peter Jennings. 
 
 ' ' Had to come back to town on 
 business," he said. "Have you had 
 supper?" 
 
 ' ' I ordered dinner served in my 
 room," explained a miserable voice, 
 4 'but the people laughed at me 
 actually laughed in my face. So I 
 came down into their ah dining-room, 
 in accordance with the custom here, 
 but I was obliged to leave. The food
 
 14 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 was uneatable quite uneatable. I am 
 going out to find a restaurant." 
 
 ' ' You won't find one, " Jack told him. 
 ' ' When men in this town want a 
 luncheon they go into a store and 
 buy some crackers and cheese or a 
 can of cove oysters, and eat there." 
 
 Leaving his compatriot aghast and 
 hungry, he passed on to the dining- 
 room. There a couple of malodorous 
 lamps flared. Four tables were clothed 
 in crumpled red cloths and half cov 
 ered with coarse crockery. On the 
 wall hung a fly-specked sign. Its re 
 quest the season rendered unnecessary : 
 
 "GENTLEMEN WILL PLESE WEAR COTES 
 AT TABEL." 
 
 Jardine took a seat. Half a dozen 
 grimy section hands were eating at 
 an adjacent table. A few of the store- 
 keeping populace appeared. A trio of 
 drummers made merry together. Rich 
 ard Prior came in and sat down next 
 Jardine. The daughter of the house, 
 a pretty child, whose associations had
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 15 
 
 made her precociously coquettish, flut 
 tered around, waiting on the guests. 
 The unsavoriness of the supper was 
 accentuated by its accessories. The re- 
 sistful steak, the stewed raisins and the 
 bitter, whitish decoction called tea were 
 not tempting. Prior ate heartily. Jar- 
 dine sat silent and watched the door. 
 Involuntarily he leaned forward. Prior 
 also looked up. A young girl, unobtru 
 sively gowned, was standing on the 
 threshold. Her face was attractive 
 the features delicate and piquantly ir 
 regular. She had a mass of tawny 
 hair and a clear, pale skin. Large, dark 
 eyes looked out from under thick, black 
 lashes and straight black brows. 
 
 "Is that Mark's sweetheart?" whis 
 pered Prior. 
 
 ' ' Shut up ! " growled Jardine, and 
 he supplemented his command by a 
 deep and fervent curse breathed in 
 Prior's ear. He was lighting a cigar 
 in the office when the landlady came 
 up to him. "Oh, Mr. Jardine, I've 
 been looking for you. I seen you go
 
 1 6 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 in to supper. I'm thinking maybe 
 you'll drive the young lady that came 
 in on the train to-day out to her broth 
 er's Rob Lyle's, you know." 
 
 Jardine looked at her in dismay. 
 
 "The teams has been out'n the liv'ry 
 all afternoon or she'd have gone before 
 this. Now they got one back, but Lame 
 Jim says as how he's promised to drive 
 some girls over to a dance in Kansas. 
 Rob's place ain't much out'n your way, 
 and he can bring in the team to-mor 
 row. Will you?" 
 
 "I'd rather not," Jardine returned 
 decidedly. "Doesn't Lyle expect 
 her?" 
 
 "No. He only got back from St. 
 Joe last night. He was looking pretty 
 bad you know." 
 
 Jack gave a grunt of disgust. ' ' Oh, 
 Lord, yes, I know." He nibbled 
 thoughtfully at the end of his cigar. 
 "What if he's keeping up the spree? 
 He does sometimes. It wouldn't do to 
 take her out there in that case. Let 
 me think a minute. I have it," He
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY I? 
 
 straightened up and shied his cigar at 
 the stove. "I'll drive her as far as 
 Mc's, and leave her there while I go 
 up and find out how Rob is. I'll say 
 he's not at home and have her stay 
 over night with the old lady if he hap 
 pens to be too bad." 
 
 "That's a good plan. Will you go 
 in and see her now? She's in the 
 parlor. " 
 
 Jardine hesitated. Then he said, 
 "Yes, I'll see her." 
 
 A minute later he was in an ugly 
 little room, and, with a feeling akin 
 to cowardice found himself bowing to 
 Ivera Lyle.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "I am not bound to please thee with my answers." 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 '"THE landlady had fumbled over an 
 1 awkward introduction and gone out. 
 Jardine lifted his head. Miss Lyle was 
 regarding him with an expression of 
 dismayed recognition. 
 
 1 ' I shall be glad to drive you out to 
 your brother's, Miss Lyle," he said. 
 "I have known Rob since I came out 
 here six years ago." 
 
 ' ' I did not quite catch the name men 
 tioned." Jack found the modulations 
 of her voice delicious, after those, nasal 
 or strident, to which he had become ac 
 customed. "It is Jardine, is it not?" 
 
 "Jardine," he replied, "Jack Jar- 
 dine." 
 
 The look she still bent upon him 
 embarrassed him. It possessed a 
 
 18
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 19 
 
 mysterious intimacy. It indicated a 
 certain unfriendliness. 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 Evidently she expected him to say 
 more. He flushed darkly. "It is just 
 possible Rob may have spoken of me 
 in his letter he, or Mark Dudley. We 
 were close friends." Instantly he felt 
 furious with himself that he had pre 
 sumed to tell her, even indirectly, that 
 he was aware of the relation she had 
 borne to Mark Dudley. 
 
 ' ' Yes, " said the soft voice, ' 'they both 
 wrote of you. I recognized you at once 
 but not by any description." 
 
 "I I beg your pardon." 
 
 "Later, perhaps, I shall tell you 
 how. Can you give me any particu 
 lars concerning Mr. Dudley's death? 
 I did not receive the telegram until 
 two days after the funeral took place." 
 
 "Oh, there was a mistake about 
 sending the message," Jardine hastily 
 assured her. "Rob and his partner, 
 Mr. Prior, each supposed I had sent it. 
 I left the matter to them. It was all 
 so very sudden, so so unexpected."
 
 20 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 With a slight gesture she declined 
 the chair he had placed for her. 
 
 "It was sudden I know, but was 
 it unexpected?" 
 
 "Dudley was ill but a short time," 
 said Jardine. His fine, beardless 
 face had lost its sudden flush. 
 
 "Had he a doctor?" 
 
 "He had consulted a physician. 
 Eldridge we have only one medical 
 man in this benighted place chanced 
 to be out of town when the case de 
 veloped. When he returned all was 
 over. " 
 
 Gripping the top bar of the chair 
 with one hand, and holding his old 
 felt hat in the other, Jardine waited 
 for the next question. It came, de 
 liberately as the others. 
 
 "Was there an inquest?" 
 
 A look of fear flashed across his 
 face. Ivera Lyle saw it. An in 
 quest! How politely judicial she was 
 in her inquiries! Somehow she made 
 him think of Portia in the trial scene ! 
 And he had been dreading a meeting
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 21 
 
 with a lovesick, hysterical girl. "No, 
 the certificate was explicit and com 
 prehensive. An inquest was not con 
 sidered necessary." A silence fol 
 lowed. They could hear a drummer, 
 cordial and communicative, stamping 
 up the stairs to his room. Through 
 the thin walls there came from the 
 adjacent building the querulous wail 
 of a sleepy child. 
 
 "I hope I am not wearying you," 
 Miss Lyle said, "but what is the rep 
 utation of the physician who issued 
 the certificate of death?" 
 
 The sinewy hand on the chair back 
 tightened its grip until the knuckles 
 showed white. "It is similar to that 
 of many men of his class who drift 
 to these new and unsettled Western 
 towns." 
 
 The landlady put her head in at 
 the door. 
 
 ' ' The rig's ready, Mr. Jardine. You 
 better drive fast if you don't want a 
 wetting. Looks like 'twas going to 
 rain cats and dogs." Ten minutes
 
 22 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 later Jardine helped Miss Lyle into 
 the buggy that stood before the hotel 
 door. The rain had begun, a gentle 
 mist that was little more than an ex 
 aggerated dew. Scattered lights twin 
 kled around them as Jardine wheeled 
 the horses south. A red glow from 
 the window of a small, dark building 
 on the left caught the girl's eye. 
 "Isn't that the office their office? 
 I noticed the name over it this after 
 noon." 
 
 "Yes, but Rob has stayed out on 
 the farm since since he lost Dudley. 
 He leaves all the grain business to 
 Prior, now." 
 
 "So he wrote me. Why is there 
 a light at this hour?" 
 
 "Oh, Prior is at some of his con 
 founded experiments, I dare say. He 
 is one of those inquisitive devils who 
 are eternally delving into mysteries, the 
 sciences, the stars and all the isms. 
 He has a regular laboratory back of 
 the office." 
 
 He turned the horses' heads west.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 23 
 
 The sprinkled lights, and the hilarity 
 of the saloon were left behind. The 
 two faced a gusty wind and a pelting 
 rain. 
 
 ' ' You are in Kansas, now, Miss 
 Lyle. Bubble is on the state line. 
 We drive across the creek and are 
 no longer in Nebraska." 
 
 "But Rob lives in Nebraska." 
 
 "Oh, yes, well double back after 
 a while. You've no idea, though, how 
 exciting it is when village gossip palls 
 to run over the bridge and assure 
 yourself you've been taking a trip out 
 side your adopted state." 
 
 ' ' Have you men time for gossip ? " 
 
 ' ' None whatever. We make it 
 we take it. It's a mild dissipation at 
 the best. Can you drive ? " 
 
 "When I can see- -yes." 
 
 "Take the reins then, please. The 
 seeing doesn't matter. The team will 
 keep the road all right." 
 
 Miss Lyle obeyed the peremptory 
 instructions. He leaned down, pulled 
 up a rubber covering, secured it at
 
 24 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 her side and then at his own. ' ' Now, " 
 he commanded, as he took the reins 
 from her, ' ' keep well down under that 
 and the weather won't bother you." 
 
 "I don't mind the rain." 
 
 It was coming down hard, a fierce, 
 black, winter storm straight in their 
 teeth. 
 
 ' ' You've got to mind it, " he insisted, 
 raising his voice to combat the wind. 
 "Pull that rubber up to your eyes 
 and hold it there." 
 
 The team were floundering up an 
 ill-cut road in a steep bluff. The buggy 
 careened sideways and slipped in the 
 mire and running water. 
 
 ' ' Hold on ! " Jardine shouted encour 
 agingly. "We'll be at the top pres 
 ently. It isn't bad driving after that. 
 Are you getting wet?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Are you afraid?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Got that rubber tucked high?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "All right. Go ahead, Star! Get 
 up, Dash!"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 25 
 
 Slipping and sprawling, the horses 
 ascended, the buggy wavering in a 
 serpentine fashion behind them. So 
 uncertain was the light that it was 
 with a sort of instinct one knew that 
 the whitish splash on the right was the 
 wall of a cut or cliff the blackness 
 on the left the depth of a chasm. A 
 final tug, a straining, a quick jolt, and 
 the team were on the level ground 
 and moving evenly forward. Here on 
 this exposed upland the cold seemed 
 suddenly to have become intense. 
 
 "I'm afraid you'll take cold," Jar- 
 dine said. ' ' I wish you had stayed 
 at the hotel until morning." 
 
 ' ' One might as well rest in the 
 booth of a fair." 
 
 "The publicity is quite glaring, I 
 admit. You must not expect to find 
 Rob's house comfortable. You know 
 he lives in a shack and does his own 
 housekeeping. " 
 
 "Cooking and all?" 
 
 "Cooking and all." 
 
 She laughed out. ' ' How funny
 
 26 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 for Rob. It is impossible to imagine 
 it. He was such a fastidious boy." 
 
 "He is rather the reverse of fas 
 tidious now. You must not be easily 
 shocked. " 
 
 "I shan't." The airy confidence of 
 the words made his heart sink. "I 
 expected to rough it when I came 
 out here." 
 
 There was a lull in the storm. The 
 horses plowed through a wet, high 
 growth that rattled and crackled sharp 
 ly under the floor, against the sides, 
 and on the roof of the buggy. 
 
 "Are we off the road?" asked Ivera 
 Lyle. 
 
 "No just passing through a clump 
 of sunflowers. Like the poor, we have 
 them always with us. They are al 
 most as troublesome dead as alive." 
 
 The vehicle jolted down a hill. 
 Below a light was twinkling through 
 the rain. 
 
 "Is that Rob's place?" 
 
 "No, that's McLelland's. It's a lit 
 tle dug-out scooped in a bluff. It re-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 27 
 
 joices, however, in a stone front. I'm 
 going to leave you there till I find 
 out if Rob is at home. His place is 
 on the next section." 
 
 "Why can't I go straight on with 
 you?" she asked quickly. 
 
 "Rob may not be there." 
 
 "The woman at the hotel said he 
 got in from St. Joe last evening." 
 
 ' 'But he has some law business to at 
 tend to at the county seat. He may 
 have driven there to-day. You will 
 wait here until I find out." He was 
 driving down a zigzag declivity, di 
 rectly toward the light. 
 
 "Well!" Miss Lyle gave a little 
 gasp. "Are you not a trifle auto 
 cratic, Mr. Jardine?" 
 
 "We are everything that is repre 
 hensible in this country, Miss Lyle," 
 he assured her gravely. "Hello, there!" 
 In the frame of yellow light, almost 
 blocking up the doorway appeared the 
 huge form of an old woman. 
 
 "Who's that?" she called in a sharp 
 voice. "I know the team but I don't 
 know you."
 
 28 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Don't know me, Mrs. Me?" 
 "It ain't you, Mr. Jardine?" 
 "Oh, but it is. Who-a, there, 
 Dash! Now, Miss Lyle." He had 
 jumped out. Holding the reins in one 
 hand he extended the other to the oc 
 cupant of the buggy. 
 
 "I submit under protest, Mr. Jar- 
 dine." 
 
 "Oh, but you do submit. Take 
 my arm. This way here we are! 
 Mrs. McLelland, this is Miss Lyle, 
 Rob's sister. She came in from the 
 East to-day, and could not get a rig 
 to come out until this uncomfortable 
 hour. Rob may not be home. You'll 
 give her a cup of tea, I know, while 
 I find out." 
 
 "To be sure I will. Come right 
 in, Miss Lyle. Rainin' like all's out, 
 ain't it? What part air you from? 
 Chicago? Dear me, you don't say! 
 I'm that glad to see you. I'm from Chi 
 cago myself, so we're fellow citizens, you 
 might say. Leastwise, I lived within 
 a hundred an' twenty mile of Chicago
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 29 
 
 for two year onct myself. Going, 
 Mr. Jardine? You don't need to 
 hurry. I'm a settin' up fur Pa. He's 
 a-helpin' tend to old Smiley's corpse. 
 You know what a hand Pa is for 
 corpses, Mr. Jardine. Pa," she ex 
 plained affably as the door closed be- 
 him Jardine, "is the best layer-out 
 you ever see. Not that he's in the 
 business or ever has been, though he 
 expects to be soon, seein' there's an 
 openin' in Bubble. There can't be a 
 corpse fur twenty mile around that 
 Pa don't help tend to. Just seems to 
 have a natural genius that way. It's 
 a fine thing to have genius. I got 
 some myself fur salt-riz biscuits an' 
 chicking pot-pie. Ef you'll hand over 
 that basket of cobs my legs ain't 
 what they was an' stoopin' is awful 
 plausible on a body this fire'll be 
 a-bellerin' in no time." 
 
 While she talked, and Ivera, forget 
 ting her indignation toward Jardine for 
 compelling her to remain behind, lis 
 tened, amused and interested, the man
 
 30 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 
 
 who had brought her drove furiously 
 westward along the muddy road. He 
 drew up before a blacker patch in 
 the pervading blackness. He sprang 
 out and walked rapidly in the direc 
 tion of the house that stood back 
 from the road. The front door would 
 not yield, so he went around to that 
 in the rear. Its handle turned read 
 ily. He went in. 
 
 "Rob!" he called. "Oh, I say, 
 Lyle!" 
 
 Not a sound. 
 
 Jardine fumbled in his pocket till 
 he found a match. He struck it and 
 lighted a lamp that stood on the table. 
 The light revealed a small, bare room, 
 a dirty table, on which was some stale 
 bread and bologna sausage, and a low 
 stove that was white with ashes. Jar- 
 dine passed into the front room, the 
 lamp in his hand. Here a boy lay 
 asleep on a lounge. Some flashy papers 
 and a couple of empty flasks were on 
 a chair at his elbow. Jardine leaned 
 down and shook him.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 3 1 
 
 ' ' Lyle ! Look here, I say ! Wake 
 up! Your sister is down at Mc's. 
 She'll be here directly." The recum 
 bent young form limply swayed into 
 a sitting posture. A flushed, weak, 
 handsome face from under a tumbled 
 mass of light brown hair gazed stu 
 pidly up at Jardine. 
 
 ' ' Eh ? " with a hazy smile. ' 'What's 
 up, Jack?" 
 
 Jardine looked around the dreary 
 room in silence, and then back at the 
 vaguely-smiling countenance of Rob 
 Lyle. He pulled off his overcoat. 
 "Come on," he said. 
 
 "Where, Jack?" 
 
 " Come on." 
 
 He caught Lyle by the arm. The 
 boy resisted. Jardine yanked him up 
 and forcibly propelled him toward the 
 kitchen. Here he relaxed his hold 
 for an instant to light the lantern 
 hanging on the wall. 
 
 "What in thunder are you up to?" 
 blurted Lyle. 
 
 Jardine took up the lantern on his
 
 32 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 arm and pulled Rob outside the back 
 door. Guided by the sound of rush 
 ing water, he dragged him to the 
 corner of the house. From a pipe 
 into a huge rain-barrel the waters of 
 the roof gutter were chug, chugging 
 down at a great rate. Jardine set 
 down the lantern, picked up Lyle and 
 deposited him, head downward, in the 
 rain-barrel. He jerked him up in a 
 minute, sputtering and swearing. 
 
 ' ' The d-de-devil take you ! " howled 
 Lyle. "Wh-what did I ever do to 
 you, anyhow ? " 
 
 "See here, I've told you your sis 
 ter is coming up here to-night. You 
 go in now and build a fire, and *get 
 rid of those bottles and straighten' up 
 generally. You understand? " :; 
 
 "What brought her out West?" 
 
 "Ask her. Will you mind what I 
 told you?" 
 
 Another ducking seemed imminent. 
 Rob retreated to a safe distance. 
 
 "I'll get an attack of pneumonia 
 out of this, confound you."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 33 
 
 "You'll get a thrashing if you let 
 that little girl find out what a beast 
 you are!" Jardine promised cordially. 
 
 He flung around to the road and 
 drove back to McLelland's.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Are these things spoken? Or do I but dream?" 
 
 Much Ado Aboiit Nothing. 
 
 ^IXT'ELL, what do you think of 
 VV it, Ive?" asked Rob Lyle. 
 
 He had come to the door where 
 his sister was standing, and had dropped 
 his arm around her shoulders in half 
 indifferent, half affectionate, brotherly 
 fashion. 
 
 "It is different from what I imag 
 ined. I've always thought of Nebraska 
 as level. I find its prairies are like 
 the waves of a subsiding sea." She 
 was looking out across the billowy un 
 dulations all plaided with the dull 
 amber of cornstalks, the vivid green 
 of winter wheat, the delicate daffodil 
 of withered grass. 
 
 "It is level, in spots, " he returned, 
 laughing. "This doesn't happen to 
 be one of the spots." 
 
 34
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 35 
 
 "But what weather! It is like May." 
 
 "Yes. The climate is like the land 
 delightful and detestable." 
 
 It was an idyllic morning, the sky 
 blue and luminous, the earth wearing 
 a fresh- washed face, the air crisp and 
 caressing. There were shifting, sil 
 very hazes on the distant bluffs, and 
 to one city bred the absolute absence 
 of sound was by contrast strangely 
 restful. 
 
 "I like," the girl said, "the things 
 out here that God made. I don't 
 like those you men have made." 
 
 ' ' Meaning my stately residence ? " 
 
 "That the town many things. 
 The house would not be so bad, if " 
 
 "Speak on, oh, critic from the effete 
 East!" 
 
 ' ' Such polished sarcasm disarms 
 me." 
 
 ' ' That's right. Grind your heel into 
 a fellow when he's down." 
 
 "Well, the house wouldn't be so 
 bad if it were " 
 
 ' ' Clean and well-ordered. "
 
 36 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' Please don't interrupt. Little boys 
 never should. I didn't say that. I 
 wouldn't put it that way." 
 
 ' ' Don't hesitate. We who enter here 
 leave sensitiveness behind with other 
 unnecessary emotions. Seriously, what 
 does a child like you know about house 
 keeping?" 
 
 ' ' You forget that I have been keep 
 ing house for Uncle James for several 
 years. " 
 
 "On Michigan boulevard?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 1 ' With how many servants ? " 
 
 "Five." 
 
 "And carte blanche as to expense?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "Then you are fully qualified to 
 become the mistress of a Nebraska 
 farm." 
 
 "I'm fully qualified to inform you 
 that the toast keeping hot in the oven 
 will be dried into leather if we don't 
 go in and eat it." 
 
 "Well," he capitulated across his 
 coffee, "this is something like."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 37 
 
 "Like what? You are explicit!" 
 
 ' ' Like comfort. " 
 
 She glanced significantly and silently 
 around. 
 
 "Oh, as for that," Rob said, in a 
 glow resultant on the fellowship, the 
 propinquity, the morning and the meal, 
 "as for that, I'll ride over to McLel- 
 land's after breakfast and see if she 
 can't hunt up a helper for you. If any 
 one can the old lady is that individual." 
 
 ' ' Mrs. McLelland ? The undertaker's 
 wife ? " 
 
 "Oh, Lord!" roared Rob. "Has 
 she been rubbing that into you already ? 
 Dear girl, you are anticipating events. 
 She isn't an undertaker's wife. She 
 is a farmer's wife. But this particular 
 farmer has given many prophetic hours 
 out of his prosaic existence to the proud 
 day when he should own a hearse and 
 share honors with the officiating clergy 
 man at funerals. This hope has been 
 bourgeoning in the mind of his wife 
 also. It has flowered for your benefit." 
 
 "You are right. I recollect now
 
 38 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 that she only said her husband was 
 about to buy out an undertaking busi 
 ness." She rose, poured water in the 
 singing tea-kettle and came back to 
 the table. "You'll get my trunk to 
 day, Rob? It is at the hotel." 
 
 "I will, my dear." He was eyeing 
 approvingly her trig traveling costume. 
 "Our prairie damsels don't dress like 
 that, Ive." 
 
 ' ' You haven't asked me why I came 
 West." 
 
 "It is enough to know you are here. " 
 
 ' ' What a gallant speech ! And to 
 think of it wasted on your sister." 
 
 "I suppose that, rinding yourself 
 Uncle James' heiress, you decided to 
 let the light of your countenance shine 
 upon your exiled brother." 
 
 "It grows worse and worse! Upon 
 whom have you been practicing your 
 flatteries, Rob? The unfortunate girl 
 has my sincere compassion. Seriously, 
 Uncle's death gave me the opportu 
 nity to travel, but I have been wanting 
 to come West since," she hesitated,
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 39 
 
 ' ' since September. " There was an odd 
 change in her voice. 
 
 ' ' I should not think you would care 
 to come on account of Mark's death." 
 
 "That is the reason I came." 
 
 He looked at her blankly. "I don't 
 understand you, Ivera." 
 
 She stood up and busied herself with 
 the dishes. "I can't explain now 
 in the morning in such sunshine." 
 
 "Is your reason so mysterious and 
 uncanny," he asked, laughing, "that 
 it may be whispered only in midnight 
 darkness and elemental turmoil?" 
 
 "Don't!" she entreated. 
 
 He looked at her, his brows knit, 
 and was silent. 
 
 Suddenly the sunshine was shut out. 
 A huge shadow wavered across the 
 floor. A mighty tread set the dishes 
 dancing. A gigantic form, gowned in 
 clean and crackling calico, loomed up 
 before them. A square, clean-cut, 
 alert, shrewd old face beamed down 
 upon them. 
 
 "Well, if it isn't Mrs. Me!" cried
 
 40 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Rob, jumping up and setting a chair 
 for her. 
 
 Slowly, with great care and deliber 
 ation, the old lady let herself sink on 
 the seat. 
 
 "It's them legs of mine," she ex 
 plained. 
 
 "Yes," murmured Miss Lyle, po 
 litely but vaguely. 
 
 "Them legs of mine," continued 
 Mrs. McLelland, "is the worst legs. 
 I soak 'em in coal oil, an' I rub 'em 
 with turpentine. Pa kin tell you I 
 used up seven bottles of Shinsquinicook 
 Indian Infallible Remedy on 'em, an' 
 they're that stiff and hurtful yet I say 
 to Pa sometimes I wish I was like 
 that cobbler down to Bubble that sup 
 ports a fambly on one leg he ain't got 
 two to bother with ef they git feelin' 
 mean like mine does." 
 
 Ivera smiled sympathetically. Rob 
 nodded and agreed, ' ' That's so, " with 
 much gravity. 
 
 "But it wasn't about them legs I 
 come up to see you," their neighbor
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 41 
 
 proceeded. "I got to thinkin' after 
 you drove off last night that you was 
 the very person that could decide a 
 p'int between Mis' Stebbins an' me. 
 It's a question of etiquette." 
 
 "If you'll excuse me," Rob said, 
 rising, "I'll go out to the barn a while. 
 I'm not in it, you know, when it 
 comes to a question of etiquette." 
 
 "Oh, g'long!" consented Mrs. McLel- 
 land, contemptuously. 
 
 The young fellow laughingly took 
 his departure. Mrs. McLelland firmly 
 planted her cane a sawed off broom 
 stick and clasped her two big, brown, 
 sinewy, hard-worked old hands on top 
 of it 
 
 "You see my niece was married 
 two weeks ago, an' we give her a 
 oyster weddin'. There was a oyster 
 supper over to the Presbyterian church 
 in Kansas, an"' me an' Pa went. We 
 hadn't ett sence noon. Twenty-five 
 cents a supper was charged. I ain't 
 sayin' it was too much seein' Pa demol 
 ished three plates of oysters an' I ab-
 
 42 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 sorbed four, an' considerin' the pie an' 
 the pickles, which was throwed in, so 
 to speak. All the oysters wasn't used, 
 as I had suspicioned they mightn't be, 
 so I says to Pa: 'You go out to the 
 wagon, Pa, an' you'll find the one- 
 quart can an' the two quart pitcher hid 
 under the Rising Sun quilt. We'll give 
 our niece a oyster wedding.' So out 
 Pa goes an' back he comes with the 
 one-quart can an' the two-quart pitcher. 
 When the lights is bein' put out I goes 
 to a committee woman an' I says, 
 'What air you goin' to do with them 
 Oysters you got left ?' Says she, 'I don't 
 hardly know.' Says I to her, 'They 
 air not particular desirable to us, not 
 bein' on the half shell, the way Pa pro 
 fesses the most amenity fur them, but 
 seein' that they're left on your hands, 
 an' that I believe in patronizin 1 them 
 that labors fur the Lord, I'll take 'em, 
 an' pay you twenty cents a quart fur 
 'em.' She says, 'Twenty-five at least 
 they cost us thirty.' But I answers, 
 ' 'Twenty an' not another cent. My mind
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 43 
 
 is fixed on that firm ez the tail is set in 
 the cat. We ain't paved with gold, ' I 
 says. So we took the superficial bee- 
 valves home, an' when Eleolanda was 
 married we had a spread. Oyster soup 
 an' vinegar pie, cookies an' cold slaw, 
 and salt-riz biscuits." 
 
 She paused to draw breath a long 
 breath of triumphant retrospection. 
 The girl opposite gazed at her with 
 sparkling eyes. 
 
 "That must have been a supper!" 
 she declared with emphasis. 
 
 "It was," impressively. "When 
 everything was ready I steps to the door 
 of the other room we ain't got but two, 
 exceptioning the loft, an' I seen that all 
 the guests was sittin' quiet an' peace 
 able close to the wall, just as orderly 
 as anything you ever see an' I says: 
 'The Reverend Mr. and the Reverend 
 Mrs. McGrew!' Then I calls, 'Mr. an' 
 Mrs. Tobias Fry' his folks, you know. 
 And then I says: 'Mr. Amos Zinklean' 
 Miss Amberiller Jones.' Wasn't that 
 right?"
 
 44 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Right?" echoed Miss Lyle, with a 
 rising inflection that expressed astonish 
 ment such a question should be con 
 sidered necessary. The old lady leaned 
 back in her chair, and laughed with 
 a heartiness that brought the blood 
 warmly into her tan-colored cheeks. 
 
 ' 'I knowed you'd think so. I did my 
 self when they come a-walkin' out to 
 supper, stiff as soldiers, an' not speakin' 
 above their breaths. But while they 
 was partakin' up comes approachin' me 
 Mrs. Stebbins the little one with the 
 black eyes an' the turn-up nose. I fur- 
 got you don't know her, not bein' in 
 sassiety here yet. She says to me: 'Mrs. 
 McLelland, that-a-way ain't customary 
 among the four hundred. The lady re- 
 ceivin' should not invite the guests to 
 partake. Such is the office of a meenial. ' 
 I says to her, an' I felt myself a-growin : 
 ' Mis ' Stebbins, permit me the animos 
 ity of counteractin ' your remarks. Mine 
 is the reliable receipt,' I says, an' I 
 seen she was a-shrivelin, 'onless on-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 45 
 
 less,' I says, 'you employ a butler in 
 the fambly.'" 
 
 She paused, panting exhausted, 
 majestic, superior, superb. 
 
 Ivera laughed laughed as she had 
 not for months, for the few years since 
 her childhood ended. Rob, currying 
 the horses, heard the gay", sweet, child 
 ish chiming of irrepressible mirth, and 
 smiled. 
 
 ' ' There ! " shouted Mrs. McLelland, 
 ' ' I knowed it I knowed it ! I told Pa 
 you'd say I was right. You don't need 
 to utter one single consonant. " Her cach- 
 innations, following the young laugh 
 ter, sounded like a grotesque echo. 
 ' ' I was sure you'd agree with me, fur 
 ef I do live in Nebrasky, I ain't always 
 done it. I read the Washington sas- 
 siety news every week regular in the in 
 side of the Dry Creek Chronicle. I 
 didn't think when it came to knowledge 
 of etiquette that any little snub-nose 
 Stebbins could superannuate me. An' 
 I see you know it, too." 
 
 Confronted by the responsibility of
 
 46 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 deciding a question of such stupen 
 dous social importance, the girl was 
 silent. Her eyes shone and her red 
 lips were mutinously mirthful. 
 
 "We ain't got no affinity sence, " 
 Mrs. McLelland explained, lifting her 
 self laboriously erect and leaning very 
 hard indeed on the broomstick cane. 
 ' ' Her husband was elected town clerk in 
 Bubble, but I never heerd it. Her 
 ' Court-house Steps ' quilt is done, but 
 she ain't got through yet for all I know. 
 Ef Pa buys out the undertakin' busi 
 ness, an' gits a fine hearse like he talks 
 of, I hope she won't never git to ride 
 in it, fur she don't deserve it/" 
 
 ' ' I don't really think she does, " Miss 
 Lyle agreed seriously. 
 
 "To think," appealed Mrs. McLel 
 land, "of a little, flirty thing that ain't 
 never been out of Nebrasky or Kansas 
 a-criterionin ' me! M-e! That lived fur 
 two year only a hundred an ' twenty 
 mile from Chicago." 
 
 ' ' It was a rash thing to do, " Miss 
 Lyle assented.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 47 
 
 Her visitor shot her a keen glance, 
 but she was smiling seraphically. 
 
 ' ' Good-bye. No, don't call Rob 
 Lyle. I can get into that low rig 
 alone . But, look here ! " She straight 
 ened up and shook one imperious fore 
 finger. " I'm goin' to tell Pa ef any of 
 them Stebbins' hens comes over on our 
 half section, to flop somethin' after 
 'em, even if it's one of our corn-cobs, 
 though fuel is dear just now, owin' to 
 the railroad strike, though why men 
 can't resign theirselves to the inimi 
 table surpasses me. Even an empty 
 lye-can shied at one of 'em would con 
 vey my contumely fur a woman who 
 ain't never lived within one hundred 
 an ' twenty mile of Chicago, and don't 
 understand the embonpoint of a ques 
 tion of etiquette." 
 
 "Going, Mrs. Me?" cried Rob, 
 coming in. "I'm off for Bubble, my 
 self. I'll drive you as far as you go." 
 
 "I'm not thanking anyone to drive 
 me, "returned Mrs. McLelland, stiffly.
 
 48 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "If them legs of mine will let me git 
 in the buggy, I kin git home." 
 
 Rob looked toward his sister. ' ' Have 
 you asked her about getting help ? " 
 
 ' ' No. Do you know where I can 
 get a servant, Mrs. McLelland?" 
 
 "A servant?" 
 
 "Yes, Rob thinks I ought to have 
 help, and " 
 
 "Oh, help yes," the old lady re 
 turned briskly. ' ' I thought you said 
 a servant. We ain't got servants in 
 Nebrasky. Sometimes we git help. 
 You g'long, Rob Lyle, ' n ' unhitch that 
 pony. " 
 
 Rob obediently went. 
 
 "I think you might be able to git 
 Moll Chourka. Her mother could mind 
 the baby while she went away." 
 
 "I believe I would rather have a 
 young girl," Ivera ventured gently 
 ' ' I'm not very old myself and a mar 
 ried woman might be tyrannical, you 
 know. " 
 
 She smiled deprecatingly. She was 
 beginning to discover that there were
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 49 
 
 elements to reconcile and prejudices 
 to conciliate in this new and sparsely 
 populated world. 
 
 ' ' Oh, she's a young girl. She ain't 
 married." 
 
 "But I thought you said " She 
 broke off helplessly. 
 
 4 'The baby? Land, yes." Mrs. Mc- 
 Lelland laughed. ' ' Oh, she's a young 
 girl all right jest turned seventeen. 
 She's the one Mark Dudley thrun over." 
 
 Miss Lyle's lips opened, but no sound 
 came from them. 
 
 1 ' Mark Dudley ? " she said at length. 
 
 ' ' Yes, don't know ef you was ac 
 quainted with him. Him an' your 
 brother was awful thick. Died a while 
 back. You must have got a chill last 
 night, you're that white. I'm much 
 obliged to you f ur .settlin ' that question 
 of etiquette between me an' Mis' Steb- 
 bins. Good-bye ! " 
 
 "Good-bye," replied Ivera, and she 
 laughed. But this time the laugh had 
 not the sound of a brook in spring 
 time.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Do you hear, Monsieur ? A word with you !" 
 
 All 's Well that Ends Well. 
 
 OUBBLE boomed. Its growth was 
 D like unto that of the Biblical gourd. 
 There was talk of running a regular 
 passenger coach through. Stone quar 
 ries were opened up in the midst of 
 the stubbly cornfields. Powerful horses 
 dragged huge loads of rock to the 
 waiting freight cars. Teams lumbered 
 slowly in over the rough roads, haul 
 ing thousands of bushels of corn to 
 the elevator. The drivers sat sideways 
 on the yellow heaps, or slouched along 
 beside the horses. The raw frame 
 buildings multiplied. In the grayness 
 of dawn white-covered wagons loomed 
 like gigantic mushrooms. A second 
 saloon divided honors with the Owl- 
 King. From a third building came the 
 50
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 51 
 
 sociable sound of clicking billiard balls. 
 A rumor that a jail was to be erected 
 and a resident evangelist supported 
 found favor among a few, although 
 these metropolitan possibilities were of 
 the vaguest and most remote charac 
 ter. Changes were continually occur 
 ring. One was the formation of a 
 partnership between Jardine and Jen 
 nings. Robert Lyle told his sister about 
 it when he came out from town one 
 evening. "They are a queer pair to 
 strike up such a deal," he concluded. 
 ' ' I suppose the truth of the mat 
 ter is that Jardine needs money for 
 some of his ambitious schemes, and 
 this Jennings has heaps of what the 
 immortal Avon man calls 'trash.' Jen 
 nings ought to keep his eyes peeled." 
 They were in the little kitchen which 
 had taken on a cleanliness and a cozi- 
 ness wonderfully at variance with its 
 appearance on Ivera's first introduction 
 to it. She was setting the table. A 
 big white apron was tied over her gown
 
 52 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 of soft crimson. She looked quickly 
 up at her brother. 
 
 "Why? Don't you consider Mr. 
 Jardine honorable?" 
 
 "Honorable? Oh, Lord, yes. One 
 couldn't use the other word to him. 
 But he knows what is going to benefit 
 Jack Jardine every time, and he gen 
 erally gets it." 
 
 ' ' I understood you were a friend of 
 his, you and " 
 
 "And Mark? Yes, we hung together 
 pretty closely until oh, well it's of no 
 consequence now. Supper almost 
 ready, dear ?" 
 
 "Almost I think it's of some con 
 sequence. Tell me, Rob." 
 
 "Oh, it was after Mark and I took 
 Prior into the grain business. They 
 got down on Jardine. They were 
 younger, of course, and he was a bit 
 high and mighty, they thought. I 
 rather sided with them, I admit. That 
 quail smells tempting." 
 
 "There was a quarrel, then?" 
 
 She asked the question without turn-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 53 
 
 ing from the stove, where she was put 
 ting the plump brown birds on a little 
 platter. He laughed shortly as he hung 
 his hat on a nail behind the door. 
 
 "A quarrel? Oh, no. What put 
 that in your head? There was a dif 
 ference of opinion nothing more." 
 
 "But it destroyed your pleasant 
 friendship. " 
 
 "That is rather an extravagant way 
 of putting it, dear. Prior and I are 
 very good comrades yet. Jardine and 
 I speak when we meet. I don't go 
 out of the way to meet him, though." 
 
 "Merely that?" Her dark brows 
 went up slightly. ' ' I presumed on 
 your intimacy then, when I permitted 
 him to drive me out." 
 
 Robert's fair, boyish face flushed. 
 He laughed silently until he choked 
 over his quail. 
 
 ' ' Oh, I say, I wouldn't bother about 
 that, " he advised from behind his nap 
 kin. "I've no doubt he insisted on 
 bringing you. He's an intrusive devil 
 sometimes. He has come here when
 
 54 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 he wasn't asked or wanted, " concluded 
 Rob, recollecting how cold it was at 
 the bottom of the rain-barrel. 
 
 ' ' And been disagreeable ?" 
 
 Young Lyle choked again. He rose 
 hastily and went to the pail for a drink. 
 
 "Well, he has acted in a way to 
 make a fellow chilly downright shivery 
 that's the only word to describe his 
 conduct, on my honor. You take quite 
 an interest in Jardine, Ive." 
 
 "Yes I do. May I give you more 
 tea?" 
 
 "No more, thanks. Why are you 
 interested? He isn't accounted much 
 of a lady's man out here." 
 
 "A lady's man out here?" 
 
 He laughed at the scornful signifi 
 cance of her tone. 
 
 "Well, he'd hardly be anywhere," 
 Rob continued, in the arrogance of his 
 youth. "He isn't young, you know. 
 He's thirty-six if he's a day. He isn't 
 attractive at least I can't fancy how 
 he could be considered so with those 
 confoundedly indifferent manners of
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 55 
 
 his. It may be only that he's exclu 
 sive. We resent exclusiveness on the 
 plains. He's reckless. We admire that. 
 But whether we resent or admire makes 
 no earthly difference to Jack Jardine." 
 
 "You have identified yourself with 
 the people out here, Rob." 
 
 "Necessarily," he returned, dryly. 
 
 "And Mr. Jardine has not?" 
 
 "Not socially." 
 
 "Socially!" she repeated. "Rob, 
 dear! Socially!" 
 
 "Oh, indeed, we have society out 
 here. It's rather mixed, of course, and 
 unconventional, and all that sort of 
 thing, but it exists. We have dances, 
 and literaries and box parties, and " 
 
 ' ' Oyster weddings, " she supple 
 mented. 
 
 ' ' No. In that case Mrs. McLelland 
 carried off the palm of originality. 
 The scarcity of oysters precludes the 
 possibility of oyster weddings becoming 
 vulgarly common." 
 
 "Well, what is a box party?" 
 
 "You benighted little soul! I was
 
 56 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 at a box party a few nights before you 
 came. It is all charmingly simple. 
 You go to a gathering, and you buy a 
 number. A box, containing a luncheon, 
 goes with the number. The girl who 
 prepared the luncheon goes with the 
 box. One eats the supper with the 
 girl, and talks with the girl, and dances 
 with the girl, and sees the girl home 
 all for a paltry fifty cents. Cheap, 
 is it not?" 
 
 "That," Miss Lyle replied, pushing 
 aside her cup and looking over at him, 
 "would depend upon the box and the 
 girl." 
 
 "It does, rather." He felt relieved 
 to be rid of the subject of Jack Jar- 
 dine, and plunged into illustration. 
 "The night I speak of, for instance, 
 the box I drew contained saleratus 
 cookies, huge cucumber pickles artist 
 ically attired in green tissue paper, 
 and apples that had seen more youth 
 ful days. At least a stretch of the 
 imagination makes it possible to sup 
 pose so. The girl also had been
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 57 
 
 younger once. She wore a thin white 
 dress and red woolen stockings. She 
 wouldn't dance and she couldn't talk. 
 But she ate. She ate all the saler- 
 atus cookies, and all the huge cucum 
 ber pickles, and all the apples that had 
 seen more youthful days. She may 
 have eaten the green tissue paper, too; 
 I'm not sure. I'm only sure I saw 
 her home." 
 
 "You poor poor boy!" 
 
 "Oh, that wasn't the worst of it. 
 She circulated the story that I had 
 kissed her good-night." 
 
 "Rob! You didn't?" 
 
 "Didn't I?" laughing at her tone of 
 horror. "Would you doubt the dec 
 laration of your rural sister? Listen! 
 Who is that?" 
 
 A decided step was coming around 
 the house. A moment later vigorous 
 knuckles resounded on the back door. 
 Rob rose and opened it. Jardine stood 
 outside. 
 
 "Oh, it's you, Jack. Come in." 
 
 "No, I won't go in. I stopped to
 
 5 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 tell you that devil of a Prior has all 
 but burned down the office and ele 
 vator with some of his everlasting ex 
 periments. The fire in the elevator 
 was extinguished before any real harm 
 was done. The office isn't much more 
 than a stack of black sticks. I hope 
 you're fixed about insurance." 
 
 "There's not much on the elevator. 
 It's a good thing that didn't go. The 
 office don't count. Did they get the 
 books out?" 
 
 "The books were saved." 
 
 "Thanks for taking the trouble to 
 let me know." 
 
 "I was passing this way," returned 
 Jardine ungraciously. "I'm going out 
 to Auger's about some steers. Mark's 
 trunk was in the office, you recollect. 
 I had it taken over to the hotel. It's 
 in the sample room. It will hardly do 
 to leave it there. I thought there 
 might be something in it of value to 
 Miss Lyle. You'd better see about it 
 in the morning."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 59 
 
 "I'll go right in now and see about 
 having it brought out in the morning." 
 
 "There's no need for such haste. 
 Anyhow you can't leave your sister 
 alone." 
 
 "I don't mind staying alone," said 
 Ivera Lyle. She had come to the 
 door and was standing beside her 
 brother, her head and the round curve 
 of her shoulder silhouetted against the 
 mellow lamplight. There was an em 
 barrassed silence. Then Ivera asked: 
 "Will you come in, Mr. Jardine? I 
 should like to speak with you." Look 
 ing quickly from her brother to the 
 man standing hat in hand at the door 
 step she was reminded that Jardine 
 was not a young man, and recalled 
 what Robert had said about him. 
 
 "With pleasure," answered Jardine. 
 He followed them into the kitchen. 
 Rob, impotently rebellious concerning 
 the situation, and uneasy as to the 
 subject of his sister's proposed inter 
 view with Jardine, found himself crowded 
 out of her confidence.
 
 60 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Take my horse to save saddling, 
 Rob," Jardine said, <( but no whip, 
 mind!" 
 
 "I know your brute too well for 
 that." He pulled on his hat, went 
 out into the frosty dusk of the young 
 winter night, mounted Jardine's horse, 
 and loped away toward Bubble. Stars 
 were straggling out in a half-hearted 
 fashion. A wind that alternately stung 
 and caressed was blowing down from 
 the Dakotas. The prairies on either 
 side of the road stretched away dimly 
 visible, ghostly, illimitable. 
 
 Rob rode recklessly. Ivera's interest 
 in Jardine perplexed him. He wished 
 he had not been so eager about the 
 trunk. It was pretty nearly as safe 
 in the hotel as it had been in the 
 office. A night more or less would 
 not have mattered. A troublesome 
 suggestion insinuated itself that there 
 might be a stronger reason than any 
 he knew of for his sister's Western 
 visit. He remembered that only once 
 had she mentioned the name of her
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 61 
 
 lost lover. That was the morning after 
 her arrival. She had spoken enig 
 matically then. It was quite impossible 
 she could have any suspicion as to the 
 real state of affairs. But if any lurk 
 ing idea of the truth possessed her! 
 Jardine, to be sure, was no blab, but 
 there was no telling what a girl like 
 Ivera might not get out of a fellow. 
 
 "Damn it all!" he groaned. "I wish 
 I'd never started. I wish I was back. 
 Get up, there, will you?" 
 
 He had no whip, but he brought 
 his boot heel down viciously on the 
 animal's flank. The horse seemed to 
 spring in air. Then it dashed down 
 the cut in the side of the bluff up 
 which the buggy had careened with 
 Jardine and his sister the night of her 
 arrival. A swerve to the right, as the 
 whiteness of the quarried stone gleamed 
 out pallidly in the half light a scram 
 ble a struggle on the very edge, 
 then horse and rider crashed over 
 into the draw below-
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "She takes upon her bravely at first dash!" 
 
 Henry VI. 
 
 TVER A LYLE stood at the supper 
 1 table and washed up the dishes and 
 Jack Jardine sat and watched her with 
 the amused consciousness that under 
 other circumstances he might find the 
 situation pleasant, and possibly ro 
 mantic. 
 
 ''You have had supper?" she had 
 questioned. 
 
 "I have had supper. It consisted 
 of fried pork, with a good deal of flour 
 boiled in the fat by way of gravy. 
 This was supplemented by a leathery 
 delicacy my man calls corn bread. It 
 is our invariable repast." 
 
 "Won't he cook anything else?" 
 
 "He can't." 
 
 There was a silence. Then she said: 
 "This is a desolate country." 
 62
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 63 
 
 "Are you finding that out already?" 
 "Already? I've been here over two 
 weeks. I've driven around with Rob. 
 I've been in the farmhouses and talked 
 with the women. Such isolation! Such 
 monotony! Such drudgery! And the 
 hopelessness of ever escaping from 
 these conditions accentuates the hor 
 ror of them. One exceptionally intel 
 ligent woman I met asked me if I had 
 read Kipling's story of the ride of 
 Morrowbie Jukes, and the experience of 
 those endeavoring to escape from the 
 plague pit. 'We are like that here,' 
 she said. 'When those accursed crea 
 tures tried to scale the walls that 
 bounded their living grave, the sand 
 sifted down on them, destroying their 
 foothold. We try to escape, and there 
 is the drouth one year out of three, 
 sometimes oftener. In the odd years 
 of prosperity the price of grain goes 
 down, until the most a man makes 
 after all goes but a short way toward 
 paying the indebtedness incurred dur-
 
 64 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ing the years his land yielded him 
 nothing."" 
 
 "There's some truth in that," Jar- 
 dine said, thoughtfully. "If a man 
 has sufficient capital to permit him to 
 hedge he's apt to succeed. For in 
 stance, if he can buy corn cheap a 
 good year, and hold it until a season 
 of drouth, when stock are starving, he 
 can buy feed, and ship cattle, and reap 
 big returns." 
 
 "Oh, the capitalist yes. But for 
 the farmer who depends upon the be 
 nignity of the skies from one season 
 to another what lies before him?" 
 
 "That depends largely upon his 
 temperament, and upon the ability of 
 his family to adapt itself to existing 
 conditions. " 
 
 "You are evasive. Putting his pos 
 sibly sanguine temperament and the 
 preference of his family for bread with 
 out butter out of the question what 
 then?" 
 
 "Then it is a case of slow star 
 vation."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 65 
 
 "Of mental malady also?" 
 "It's naturally conducive to that." 
 "I fancy that Nebraskans twenty 
 years from now will not feel the de 
 pression their parents experience to 
 day. They will have been familiar 
 with life here and all its hard condi 
 tions. They will accept it as a matter 
 of course, and make the best of it. 
 But the people one finds on these 
 prairies to-day, the middle-aged and 
 the prematurely old, have come from 
 less desolate states. Their one dream 
 and longing is to go back East some 
 time. But this delight presupposes 
 prosperity. It grows fainter as the 
 years pass. There is the everlasting 
 drouth to be confronted." 
 
 "Oh, sometimes we have rain the 
 night you came out here, for instance." 
 She refused to reply to his rallying 
 tone. 
 
 "For the men it does not seem to 
 be so bad, " she went on. "They have 
 their larger interests, their trips with 
 stock, their lodge meetings, and local 
 
 5
 
 66 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 elections. But the women! I wonder 
 they don't go mad!" 
 
 "Some of them do the less stolid." 
 
 ' ' I should, " she said, and shuddered. 
 
 He looked at her intently. ' ' I don't 
 think so. You have preferences, tastes, 
 resources within yourself of which peas 
 ant women have no consciousness or 
 inkling. " 
 
 ' ' How can they have such conscious 
 ness ? To appreciate beauty one must 
 first have leisure. That is the best 
 thing about wealth it gives one leisure. 
 And having leisure one can enjoy all 
 that is most beautiful in book or on 
 canvas, on land or sea." 
 
 "You would live your own life any 
 where," he insisted. 
 
 She shook her head. "I'd try to, 
 but I think something would snap in 
 me. I walked down the other morning 
 to the house where the man who works 
 for Rob lives with his family. Such 
 a morning ! The prairies were white with 
 frost, and every tall cottonwood was 
 a shaft of silver! A glorious sun was
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 67 
 
 coming up, and there was a rushing 
 wind that one bent to buffet a wind 
 that had the cold resistance of ocean 
 waves. I went from it all into the 
 little, two-roomed hut. Some men and 
 children were eating at the table, and 
 the woman stood by the stove frying 
 pork and cakes. I could only see her 
 dimly through the greasy fog with 
 which the place was filled. I remarked 
 upon the beauty of the morning. ' Is 
 it a pretty day?' she asked indifferently. 
 When the men had left the room she 
 told me they had gone out to kill a 
 hog. 'It weighs four hundred,' she 
 said, with some pride, 'an' I'm goin' 
 to put it down. ' ' Without help ?' ' Land 
 yes, I kin do it all right if only the 
 baby don't fret. ' I looked at the puny 
 child in the cradle. ' He looks delicate, ' 
 I said. 'Don't you ever take him out?' 
 4 No, ' she replied, ' I ain't got time for 
 that. I ain't been anywheres myself 
 since the last Fourth. All the children 
 looks that way until they get old enough 
 to roll outdoors themselves. Then
 
 68 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 they pick up. ' What beauty could that 
 woman see or hear, or even think of, 
 with such a task before her? And 
 when she might creep to bed, tingling 
 with tired, there was still the fretful 
 baby to tend." 
 
 "Her case is a common one," Jar- 
 dine admitted. ' ' One day or one 
 week or even one month might not be 
 so unendurable, but it is the repetition 
 that is so terrible. Three hundred 
 and sixty-five days in the year, and 
 God only knows how many years ahead 
 of them. It's rough lines." 
 
 ' ' I wish I could induce Rob to throw 
 up the life out here and go back with 
 me. He is altering inevitably, I sup 
 pose. I was much startled at first by 
 the change in him. He does not real 
 ize it himself. He had fine ideals and 
 ambitions once. " 
 
 "Fine ideals are torn in tatters by 
 the wind of the plains," returned Jar- 
 dine, "and ambitions that are not 
 merely material rust." She took up 
 the lamp and led the way into the
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 69 
 
 front room. Jardine, following her, 
 uttered an exclamation of pleased sur 
 prise. Was this the dismal apartment 
 in which he had found Lyle asleep? 
 This gay little room with the cheery 
 fire, some comfortable new chairs, a 
 lot of pencil and pastel sketches pinned 
 on the wall, magazines tossed around, 
 and a wicker sewing stand full of bright 
 wools and stuffs? 
 
 "You are a magician," he declared. 
 ' ' How long is Rob going to keep you 
 to make the rest of us envious?" 
 
 She put the lamp down and turned 
 and faced him. "Only until I have 
 discovered what I came to learn the 
 manner and mystery of Mark Dudley's 
 death." 
 
 "Miss Lyle!" 
 
 She was looking at him quietly 
 expectantly. 
 
 "Why do you imagine there is any 
 mystery connected with it?" 
 
 ' ' You may laugh at me if I tell you." 
 
 Laugh! There was slight chance of 
 his jesting on that subject!
 
 7 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "I will not," he answered. He 
 waited until she sat down, then took 
 the chair opposite her. ''Miss Lyle, 
 what is it you believe?" 
 
 "I believe that Mark Dudley did 
 not die a natural death." 
 
 He caught his breath sharply. His 
 lips tightened into a pale line. There 
 was an instant's pause. Then he com 
 manded: "Go on!" 
 
 "I was only seventeen when Mark 
 and I became engaged. Soon after 
 he decided to go West. He refused 
 to allow me to accompany him until 
 he could offer me a comfortable home. 
 'But,' I urged, 'if you should become 
 ill be near death?' 'Neither danger 
 nor death can keep me from calling 
 to you, ' he said. ' If I am in peril 
 my spirit shall summon yours, and 
 yours shall hear!' It was all very real 
 to me. I promised to listen and 
 obey." 
 
 Jardine's eyes deep eyes with a tired 
 look never left her face. 
 
 "That was five years ago. I had
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 7 1 
 
 almost forgotten our compact. On the 
 night of the first of September I 
 dreamed, you will say. This I saw: 
 a room in which there was a stove, a 
 counter, some chairs, a lounge. On 
 this lounge lay a dead man. The man 
 was Mark Dudley." 
 
 Jardine sprang to his feet. ' ' For 
 God's sake!" he exclaimed, and broke 
 off. 
 
 ' ' I looked at my watch I had 
 awakened with the horror of the im 
 pression. It was half past eleven. I 
 again tried to sleep. After a while the 
 same queer sense of semi-consciousness 
 possessed me. I saw once more the 
 dimly-lit room. The rigid shape was 
 still on the lounge. A sparely-built 
 man in the rear, whose face I could 
 not see, was stooping over some task 
 apparently a task of importance. 
 The door opened. You came in." 
 
 Jardine fell a step backward flung 
 out his hand. 
 
 ' ' I told you when we first met that 
 I recognized you, " she proceeded, look-
 
 72 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ing at him. "Now you know how. 
 Why you were in that place at that 
 hour I do not know, but just then it 
 seemed to me that Mark cried out, 
 although neither you nor the other 
 man appeared to hear, 'Ivera! Help 
 me!' Shaking I leaped out of bed. 
 It was half-past three. Several days 
 later your telegram that Mark had died 
 at half-past eleven o'clock on the night 
 of the first of September reached me. 
 Mr. Jardine, will you tell me what 
 occurred at half-past three o'clock the 
 following morning?" 
 
 White as he would be coffined, Jar- 
 dine regarded her. 
 
 "Have I startled you?" she asked. 
 
 ' ' I do not wonder" his voice sounded 
 changed "that you were alarmed by 
 such a a dream. If there were any 
 proofs that your suspicions should be 
 considered, I would be glad to assist 
 you." 
 
 ' ' Yes ?" In her voice was that faintly 
 interrogative note that always dis 
 turbed him.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 73 
 
 "To confute your conviction," he 
 continued coldly, "would be an easier 
 task than to confirm it." 
 
 ' ' Mark died the night of the first of 
 September. He was buried on the sec 
 ond. Was such haste imperative?" 
 
 "Eldridge had declared the disease 
 contagious. Burials follow death more 
 quickly here than in the East." 
 
 A faint smile flickered over her face. 
 She looked suddenly white and weary. 
 "You refuse to help me then?" 
 
 "Miss Lyle," he cried passionately, 
 "why do you ask me such questions? 
 Why do you look at me like that?" 
 
 ' ' Because it was your face I saw in 
 my vision that night." 
 
 ' ' And you harbor suspicions toward 
 me because I happen to resemble the 
 creature of a dream?" 
 
 "I did not say I suspected you." 
 
 "But you do." 
 
 ' ' I must learn the truth, " she evaded, 
 piteously. 
 
 "God help you when you do!" Jack 
 Jardine said to himself.
 
 74 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Sit down!" the girl suddenly urged 
 with gracious cordiality. ' ' What a host 
 ess you will think me!" 
 
 But Jardine had flung back his head 
 and was listening. 
 
 ' ' Someone is calling from the road, " 
 he said. ' ' I shall see who it is. " 
 
 He hurried out the front way. In 
 a few minutes he was back. "It is 
 Doctor Eldridge and Rob. It isn't 
 anything serious, I think, but Rob is 
 hurt." 
 
 "Hurt?" 
 
 "They say my horse shied at the 
 quarry, and went over with Rob into 
 the draw. Eldridge was coming up the 
 ascent at the time, and saw the acci 
 dent. He secured help, and got Rob 
 into his buggy. We will bring him in 
 now. " 
 
 When they carried Rob in, he looked 
 anxiously at his sister. ' ' I'm one big 
 ache, Ive, but it won't amount to much. 
 Don't get scared." 
 
 She shook her head and smiled back 
 at him.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 75 
 
 Jardine murmured a word of intro 
 duction as Ivera glanced at Doctor El- 
 dridge. She saw a middle-aged man 
 with a peculiarly pale and flabby face, 
 straight black hair and round black 
 eyes, in which the iris was almost com 
 pletely absorbed by the pupil. 
 
 "He is badly bruised and shaken 
 up," Eldridge decided after an exam 
 ination, ' ' but there are no bones broken. 
 He'll be around all right in a week or 
 so. He was more frightened than hurt, 
 as we say of the children. Still, it was 
 a close shave. Good thing the horse 
 didn't fall on him. I'll call to-mor 
 row. " 
 
 He bowed to Ivera and went out. 
 Jardine followed him. 
 
 ' ' See here, Doc, " he said, ( ' that girl 
 is alone there. The woman who has 
 been helping her comes only for a few 
 hours in the daytime, I understand. 
 You know the people out here better 
 than I do. Can't you find someone 
 to-night to come to stay with Miss Lyle ? 
 Where are you off to, anyhow?"
 
 76 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "I'm going to old man Dayson's. 
 He's in the last ditch with pneumonia. 
 Yes, I think I know a girl who'll come 
 down. I'll send someone, sure." 
 
 "Right away, Doc, mind!" 
 
 "Right away. I pass the place." 
 
 He drove off. Jardine went back to 
 the house. He told Ivera the doctor 
 would send a woman to stay with her. 
 Then he talked a while with Rob. 
 He was not long gone when there was 
 a knock at the kitchen door. Ivera 
 opened it. A girl stood just outside. 
 She had a small shawl over her head. 
 This shawl she grasped under her chin 
 with a square, brown hand. 
 
 "The Doc he says you want help," 
 she said, speaking with the hesitancy of 
 one using an unaccustomed tongue. 
 
 "Yes. Come in." 
 
 In the light Ivera noticed that the 
 girl was young and- comely in a robust, 
 peasant style. Her form was full and 
 round. Her face had the soft curves, 
 and pouting lips of childhood. The 
 eyes were too prominent too heavy-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 77 
 
 lidded. The lips were sensuous. But 
 the dark hair was abundant and the 
 cheeks were deeply and peachily pink. 
 
 "What is your name?" Miss Lyle 
 asked. 
 
 "Mollie Chourka." 
 
 Involuntarily Miss Lyle moved back. 
 What was that Mrs. McLelland had 
 said? "the girl Mark Dudley thrun 
 over. "
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off!" 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 JARDINE walked back to town. 
 Late though it was, there were 
 many people moving. They stood in 
 groups around the damaged elevator 
 and the ruins of the office. Eldridge 
 had returned, and had told of the ac 
 cident to Robert Lyle. The rumor 
 grew, until it was asserted he had been 
 killed outright. In the glare of the 
 light from the drugstore Jardine saw 
 the broad, red face of Peter Jennings. 
 
 " Where's Prior?" 
 
 "Haven't seen him. Where have 
 you been?" 
 
 ' * Out at Lyle's, " Jack replied shortly. 
 
 "Oh," exclaimed Peter, with a sig 
 nificant smirk, "to see Mr. Lyle, of 
 course. " 
 
 78
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 79 
 
 ' ' It is, " Jack assured him with much 
 deliberation, "none of your damned 
 business who I went to see." And he 
 walked on. He went into the hotel, 
 strode up the rickety stairway and 
 kicked open the door of a certain room. 
 On the side of the bed Prior sat smok 
 ing. A trunk stood in the middle of 
 the floor. The leather strap that en 
 circled it was undone, but the lock 
 was still secure. 
 
 "You've been trying to open that 
 trunk," said Jardine. 
 
 ' ' For once, " returned Prior placidly, 
 "you've guessed right, my unceremo 
 nious friend. You were so almighty 
 anxious to save it I thought it might 
 contain something worth seeing, so I 
 had it brought up to my room. Not 
 one of my keys will fit it though." 
 
 "You have no right to open it." 
 
 "Have you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You were pretty careful that trunk 
 should not go up in smoke. Dudley 
 used to tell us he had no relatives.
 
 80 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Who has the right to open it, then?" 
 
 A dull red flushed Jardine's hand 
 some face. 
 
 "Lyle has the best right, I fancy. 
 His sister was affianced to Dudley. 
 Doubtless her letters, keepsakes and 
 things of that sort are in the trunk. 
 We know he had her picture. She 
 may wish to secure these without hav 
 ing them pass through your hands 
 or mine." 
 
 ' ' Oh, if that is all, " Prior responded 
 indifferently, "I've no interest in it." 
 
 "You're going to rebuild the office 
 I suppose," Jardine said, as he knelt 
 down and buckled the trunk strap. 
 
 "Of course. I haven't seen Rob 
 yet." 
 
 "You won't in a hurry unless you 
 go to see him. He got a tumble to 
 night that will lay him up for a few 
 days. By the way, have you any idea 
 why his sister came out from civiliza 
 tion?" 
 
 "The pretty little girl with the de-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 8 1 
 
 licious old Irish name? How do the 
 lines go? 
 
 " How oft when the summer sun rested on 
 
 Clara, 
 
 And lit the dark heath on the hills of Ivera, 
 Have I sought thee ' " 
 
 ' ' Stop that, " Jardine ordered gruffly. 
 "Have you any idea why she came 
 to Nebraska to this beggarly little 
 town ?" 
 
 "It can't concern me to know." 
 
 Jardine, one foot planted on the 
 trunk, looked at him keenly. ' ' I 
 should say it concerned you a good 
 deal." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "She has come here to discover the 
 circumstances and particulars of Mark's 
 illness and death." 
 
 Prior looked startled. Then he 
 grinned, showing all his little sharp, 
 white teeth. 
 
 "That's a good deal better than 
 attempting to discover the particulars 
 
 6
 
 82 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 of his health and life. She would not 
 relish those." 
 
 Jardine impatiently pushed his old 
 hat back on his head. ' ' But she says 
 she does not believe Mark Dudley died 
 a natural death." 
 
 ' 'Good Lord, " gasped Prior. Stunned 
 into sudden seriousness, he sat bolt 
 upright and stared at Jardine. 
 
 "I knew it was a bad business," 
 Jardine asserted gloomily. There was 
 silence in the room. They could hear 
 the grunting of a freight train down 
 on the track. 
 
 "What put that idea in her head?" 
 Prior asked. 
 
 Jardine checked himself as he was 
 about to reply. A minute later he 
 said: "That isn't the question. The 
 idea is there. And she doesn't strike 
 me as the kind of a girl to be easily 
 discouraged. " 
 
 Prior,, his sallow little face singularly 
 disturbed, sat and drummed with his 
 fingers on the washstand. Jardine, in 
 his former position, stared moodily at
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 83 
 
 the lamp, in which the flame was lick 
 ing the chimney black in an attempt 
 to efface its feeble existence. 
 
 "I've a good mind," burst out Prior, 
 "to divvy up with Rob as soon as 
 that insurance is paid, and go South 
 for my health." 
 
 Jardine ground an oath between his 
 teeth. ' ' You mean to take that blood 
 money, then?" 
 
 ' ' Why not ? There was risk enough 
 about getting it." 
 
 "I bet Lyle won't touch it. He's 
 a foolish youngster, but he's not a thor 
 ough scoundrel." 
 
 "All the better for me if he won't. 
 The policy is made out payable to me. 
 But I fancy he'll take his share. You 
 look as if you'd like to lick me, Jar- 
 dine." 
 
 Jardine glanced down at his hands, 
 long, brown, slender hands, which labor 
 had not robbed of their shapeliness. 
 He struck the tips together with a light, 
 dusting gesture. 
 
 ' ' Oh, " commented Prior, with a sneer-
 
 84 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ing laugh, "you wouldn't soil your 
 hands, eh? You'd consider kicking about 
 right, eh?" 
 
 "Perhaps," Jardine returned gently, 
 "but you see I can't put in my time 
 kicking curs. " With which amiable re 
 mark he walked out of the room, out 
 of the house, and toward the livery 
 barn, to which a farmer had taken his 
 horse. When he reached home the 
 bleak dawn was not far off. He dropped 
 from the animal he had hired, stabled 
 it, and turned in the direction of his 
 shack. 
 
 He felt tired, harassed, perplexed. 
 To speak or to keep still? To make 
 bad worse or let bad enough alone? 
 To tell Ivera Lyle the truth and have 
 her hate the memory of her lover, scorn 
 her brother, perhaps despise him ? No. 
 There was only one thing to do be 
 silent. A loud snore greeted him as 
 he opened his door. The snore pro 
 ceeded from an individual prone on a 
 carpet-covered lounge beside a little 
 sheet-iron stove. The form was cov-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 85 
 
 ered with a horse blanket. At one end 
 of the blanket a rosy image beamed 
 benignly. From under the other end 
 protruded a pair of substantial feet, 
 wearing the most brilliant hose imagin 
 able. The air was rank with the smell 
 of stale kerosene. 
 
 Jennings lifted his head. ' < That you, 
 dear boy? Thought I'd not go on to 
 my own place to-night but would bunk 
 with you. I've been dreaming of that 
 pretty sister of Lyle's. I've a good 
 mind to cut you out. I believe I'll 
 go call on her, and ask to take her to 
 the Christmas dance, and oh, by Jove, 
 now. " 
 
 He dodged, as the heavy boot Jar- 
 dine had taken off whizzed by his head. 
 Of the many people who knew Jack 
 Jardine, two that night entertained the 
 conviction that he was not the sweet 
 est tempered fellow in the world.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "But you'll be secret?" 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 > it's Mrs. McLelland!" cried 
 Ivera. 
 
 She had hastened to open the front 
 door in answer to a loud and imperious 
 summons. Mrs. McLelland, massively 
 handsome, wonderfully preserved, im 
 pressively dignified, and subtly sym 
 pathetic, confronted her; Mrs. McLel 
 land in black and shiny alpaca, in stiffly 
 starched net fichu, in an ancient Paisley 
 shawl, in the greenest and thickest of 
 kid gloves, in all the dazzling brilliance 
 of gold-rimmed spectacles and brand 
 new teeth! 
 
 ' ' Yes, I come out reel early, though 
 we ain't near settled in the new house 
 yet. I felt it my duty to come. I 
 didn't know but you'd be sleepin'. 
 
 86
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 87 
 
 City folks is such to keep a-layin' after 
 sun-up. Where've you got him?" 
 
 "Come in. Got whom?" 
 
 "Rob Lyle, of course." 
 
 "He's in the front bedroom." 
 
 Ivera led the way into the little 
 parlor. Mrs. McLelland followed her. 
 She deposited her ponderous propor 
 tions on a pine rocker that creaked 
 protestingly, and folded her fat green 
 hands in her lap. ' ' Well, " she com 
 mented, her shrewd old eyes scanning 
 the girl closely, "you're takin' it aw 
 ful easy." 
 
 Ivera smiled sunnily. 
 
 "It might have been worse," she 
 said. 
 
 Mrs. McLelland smiled, too, but with 
 a certain subdued resignation, a con 
 ventional solemnity. 
 
 "That's so; It might have been 
 lots worse ef Pa didn't buy out the 
 undertakin' business when he did." 
 
 Miss Lyle looked rather astonished. 
 "I don't quite understand," she said; 
 "what has that to do with it?"
 
 88 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Mrs. McLelland shook her head 
 compassionately. "You don't? Why, 
 land, that other man, Mahasby, his 
 name was Pa's progenitor, you know, 
 in Bubble was no more of a hand 
 fur corpses than my old cat Susanna. 
 He didn't have no hearse ever only 
 a spring wagon. An' fur all one could 
 tell he might be a-cartin' a pagan or 
 a quarter of beef, instead of a respect 
 able corpse that paid his fare. Now 
 Pa, he's got a hearse, with glass sides, 
 an' embalmin' fluid, and linin's, of every 
 shade from white to cream, to suit 
 blondes or brunettes. Which shade 
 do you ameliorate? But most like you 
 an' Pa has talked all that over this 
 mornin'. " 
 
 "Why, I haven't seen Mr. McLel 
 land since you moved to town." 
 
 "What? Wasn't he out here 'bout 
 three o'clock?" 
 
 "No, indeed." 
 
 "Where was he then?" Mrs. McLel 
 land demanded, sitting bolt upright. 
 
 "I'm sure," protested Ivera in meek-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 89 
 
 ness and bewilderment, "I don't 
 know. " 
 
 "He got a call fur west of town 
 between two an' three o'clock. I heered 
 the man tell him 'twas west. There 
 weren't anyone sick out here I knowed 
 on but old man Dayson." 
 
 "Mr. Dayson is dead." 
 
 "Oh, mebbe 'twas him, then. I 
 expect they sent fur Pa to constitoot 
 proper appearances fur him. I ain't 
 seen Pa since. But what about Rob? 
 You ain't never sent to the undertaker 
 over in Kansas to tend upon him?" 
 
 "The undertaker!" gasped Ivera. 
 
 "Yes. You don't mean to tell me 
 you shet Pa out'n the job?" 
 
 "What job?" Miss Lyle faltered 
 weakly. 
 
 Mrs. McLelland looked her wrath 
 and indignation. "Buryin" Rob Lyle, 
 of course! An' Pa a beautiful hand 
 fur what's that?" 
 
 That was a gay shout of laughter 
 from the bedroom.
 
 90 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Me Mrs. Me! I'm 
 worth ten dead men yet!" 
 
 In majestic disappointment the caller 
 arose and made her ponderous way 
 to the door of the bedroom. "Then 
 you ain't dead, Rob Lyle?" 
 
 "Not yet," returned Rob apologet 
 ically. 
 
 "Well, I never! They had it in 
 Bubble last night that you got throwed 
 from that Englishman's horse, an' was 
 killed. So when the man rousted Pa 
 out o' bed, I made sure 'twas to wait 
 on you. So you couldn't set on a horse 
 without bein' propelled off? Was you 
 drunk again, Rob Lyle?" 
 
 "Oh, no!" cried Ivera, in a shocked 
 voice. 
 
 "Of course not!" cried Rob indig 
 nantly. He shook his head with a 
 vigor, but when his sister had turned 
 her back he winked at Mrs. McLelland. 
 
 "Well," averred their visitor, "I 
 must be gittin' back. Ef Pa has old 
 man Dayson on his hands he'll want 
 a good dinner. Fixin' dead folks allus
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 9 1 
 
 does give Pa such an appetite. You 
 see he don't piece." 
 
 "Piece?" Miss Lyle repeated inter 
 rogatively. 
 
 "Yes. Now, my niece she pieces 
 on cold corn bread an' apples. I piece 
 on raw onions an' crackers mostly, but 
 Pa he don't piece at all, so he gets 
 real sharpened in his stomach when it 
 comes mealtimes. Well, good-bye." 
 
 Outside the house she encountered 
 a buxom damsel whose cheeks were 
 pink and whose expression was sullen. 
 
 "So you're here, Moll Chourka! 
 What doin'? Workin'? When'd you 
 come?" 
 
 "Last night." 
 
 "I thought Mis' Douthett was help- 
 in' here days." 
 
 "She was, but she ain't," the Bo 
 hemian replied. ' ' Lady want help all 
 the time." 
 
 Mrs. McLelland got herself into her 
 buggy with some difficulty, and drove 
 back to Bubble. Jardine was passing 
 when she drew up before her new frame
 
 92 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 cottage. He came forward, and held 
 the reins while she alighted, giving her 
 a steady hand by way of assistance 
 at the same time. She grunted in ac 
 knowledgment, and remarked that she 
 had been out to Lyle's. 
 
 "How is Rob getting on?" 
 1 ' Rob !" she gave a contemptuous sniff. 
 "Naught was never in danger, an' it 
 ain't now. But I expect he'll run the 
 legs off'n that young sister of his'n an' 
 Moll Chourka a-waiting on him. He's 
 the kind that's willin' to let folks to do 
 fur him." 
 
 "Mollie Chourka? That Bohemian 
 girl? Is she there?" 
 
 "She come there to work last night." 
 "The devil she did! I beg your 
 pardon, Mrs. McLelland. I must be 
 off." 
 
 He doffed his hat and strode down 
 the main street until he came to a little 
 ten by twelve shanty. He banged into 
 the one bare and dirty room. There 
 were a couple of chairs and some scat 
 tered books in the room. On an up-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 93 
 
 turned cracker box was a dirty tin 
 basin, a bar of soap, and a dingy towel. 
 Under the stove was an inch of ashes, 
 and the reddish-brown fluff of corn 
 cobs covered the floor. Doctor El- 
 dridge, dozing in a chair, started up 
 as his visitor entered. 
 
 ' ' Oh, it's only you, Jack. Sit down. " 
 
 "What in thunder did you mean," 
 Jardine demanded furiously, "by get 
 ting that Chourka girl to go to Lyle's? 
 You knew better." 
 
 "Why shouldn't she go there?" 
 
 ' ' She ? Don't you know Miss Lyle 
 was to have married Mark Dudley." 
 
 "I wasn't aware of that." 
 
 "You were told, but you've forgot 
 ten," Jardine insisted. "You've for 
 gotten more than that, thanks to that 
 demon drug you use." He was white 
 with anger. 
 
 "Go easy, Jack!" 
 
 But Jardine, uttering very fervently 
 the request that the physician betake 
 himself to a warmer climate than that 
 of Southern Nebraska, went off, slam-
 
 94 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ming the door after him. He made 
 resentful haste with the grind of affairs 
 demanding his attention, but several 
 matters cropped up to annoy and de 
 lay him. The crisp, gray winter even 
 ing was closing in before he found 
 himself riding rapidly west in the di 
 rection of the Lyle farm. It was still 
 light enough to see the road dipping 
 and winding before him, the blackish 
 clumps of sumac by the roadside, the 
 wine-red masses of tangleweed that 
 clung to his horse's legs. 
 
 He found Rob sitting up in bed, 
 eating a far daintier supper than the 
 mild character of his illness made really 
 necessary. Ivera was waiting on him. 
 She gave Jardine a distant little bow 
 and disappeared. She went into her 
 own small room, directly back of Rob's, 
 and sat down by the window. She felt 
 very tired. The unaccustomed work 
 fatigued her. She would wait until 
 Mr. Jardine was gone. So she sat in 
 a tired trance, waiting to hear the clos 
 ing of the front door. She did not
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 95 
 
 hear it. She never knew if she had 
 slept. But she presently became aware 
 that someone was speaking in a low 
 and cautious voice just outside her 
 window. 
 
 "Remember what I've told you," 
 instructed Jack Jardine. "Don't let 
 her know anything about it. You must 
 take care that she never discovers the 
 truth. She is not likely to do so if 
 you only keep still." 
 
 "I don't care," muttered Mollie 
 Chourka, sulkily. 
 
 ' ' I care a lot. And I'm determined 
 she shall not find out. You will keep 
 silent, Mollie?" His tone all at once 
 had become gentle, almost pleading. 
 
 "What good it do me to keep still?" 
 asked Mollie in her broken fashion. 
 
 "This much good." There was the 
 chink of silver as it passed from his 
 hand to hers. "There is more where 
 it came from, Mollie, if you never ad 
 mit the truth to Miss Lyle." 
 
 "All right. I won't." She was jing 
 ling the money.
 
 96 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Good girl!" said Jardine in a re 
 lieved voice. He plowed along by the 
 side of the house, and his footsteps 
 were lost in the withered grass of the 
 prairies.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "Please you, draw near. Louder the music, there!" 
 
 King Lear. 
 
 /CHRISTMAS EVE. Not the Christ- 
 \-j mas Eve of a great city. Not a 
 Christmas Eve that meant crowded 
 streets, and brilliant stores, and gushes 
 of warmth from open doors, and tempt 
 ing odors, and laden pedestrians, and 
 heaps of holly on the sidewalk, and 
 roses in the florist's window, and whirl 
 ing vehicles, and whiffs of fragrance, 
 and clanging bells, and bursts of music, 
 and glittering trees, and smiling faces, 
 and the possibility of all delightful 
 things to see and to have, of all de 
 licious things to taste. Not that kind 
 of a Christmas Eve. But a Christmas 
 Eve out in a little, new, crude, sprawl 
 ing, ugly Western town, where people, 
 stolid, reckless, contemptuous, stupid, 
 
 7 97
 
 98 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 met and mingled without assimilating, 
 without a vestige of real heartiness or 
 good-fellowship; a Christmas Eve that 
 to the many suggested merely a din 
 ner of unusual proportion and excel 
 lence, and to the few brought reminis 
 cences that could only be flushed from 
 the memory by copious drafts of liquor; 
 a Christmas Eve on which the supper 
 served in the meeting-house was the 
 acme of social exhilaration for the 
 righteous, and the turkey raffle in the 
 saloon the chief diversion of the un 
 godly. 
 
 It was a typical Nebraska winter 
 day, with a pale, splendid, distant sky, 
 into which went melting vast stretches 
 of interminable prairie. A howling 
 wind swept the dust up from the drab 
 roads in thick and swirling drab clouds. 
 
 Ivera Lyle, setting her small house 
 in order, and with Mollie's help pre 
 paring extra dishes for the morrow, 
 recalled, as she gjanced out, the scene 
 upon which she had looked the pre 
 vious Christmas Eve Michigan av-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 99 
 
 enue, stretching away, snow-mantled 
 and palace-lined; the speeding sleighs, 
 the tossing plumes, the jingling bells; 
 the mounted police in their picturesque 
 uniforms; the electric lights flashing 
 out in diminishing perspectives of white 
 flame; she had looked out upon it all 
 as she stood by the window reading 
 Mark's letter. ' ' Before another Christ 
 mas dawns I shall have come for you, " 
 he had written. And now it was an 
 other Christmas, and she had come 
 to the West, not as his happy bride, 
 but an anxious woman, bent on the 
 queerest quest that ever sprang from 
 a slight and supernatural source. She 
 had invested Mark with a fine spirit 
 of sacrifice because of his refusal to 
 claim her until he could offer her a 
 suitable home. The thought that he 
 was working for her in a strange place, 
 among strange people, appealed to her 
 affection, and kept it steadfast. She 
 gave him admiration and honor for the 
 moral heroism with which she herself 
 had endowed him. The belated news
 
 100 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 of his death had been a terrible shock 
 to her. 
 
 "Ivera! Help me!" How her heart 
 had thrilled with pain and pity in re 
 sponse to that despairing entreaty. 
 
 "I will help you, my dearest!" she 
 made answer over and over. "I can 
 not bring you back, but I shall learn 
 why your soul sent to mine that strange 
 supplication." Only once had her de 
 votion been shaken. That was when 
 Mrs. McLelland had spoken of Mollie 
 Chourka, but after the appeal for 
 silence she had heard Jardine make 
 to the girl, all doubt of Mark's fidelity 
 had vanished, and the distrust with 
 which she had regarded Jardine from 
 the first increased. 
 
 "A dollar for your thoughts, dear," 
 cried Rob. He was dressed and sit 
 ting in the little parlor, playing with 
 grace the role of convalescent. 
 
 ' ' They're not worth a dollar, Rob. " 
 
 "Then you are thinking of the com 
 ing festivity. What a flirt you are, 
 Ive! To go to a Christmas dance in
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY IOI 
 
 Bubble with that monstrous little 
 man!" 
 
 "Who persuaded me to agree to go?" 
 flashed Ivera. ''You said I need not 
 dance. You said it would be fun to look 
 on. You talked me into it, Rob. 
 Besides " 
 
 She left the sentence unfinished. 
 There was no reason she should tell 
 him she hoped to meet Prior or El- 
 dridge there perhaps both. A few 
 days previous Jennings, adopting the 
 custom sanctioned on the plains, which 
 permits any young man to call on any 
 young woman, had donned his most 
 striking equestrian costume and ridden 
 out to the Lyle farmhouse. Being 
 duly presented by Robert, who had 
 met him in town, he had besought 
 Ivera to accompany him to the event 
 of the season, the Christmas dance to 
 be given in Bubble. 
 
 "Go, Ive!" Robert had urged. "It's 
 deadly dull here." 
 
 "But I don't dance."
 
 102 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Neither do I, " cried Peter Jennings, 
 cordially . 
 
 The consideration that there she 
 might find an opportunity for speech 
 with one of the men she wished to 
 meet influenced the girl. She con 
 sented to go. Mollie was to be away 
 for Christmas. Rob said, laughingly, 
 he was glad to be rid of women folks 
 for a while, and enjoy the freedom of 
 his former condition. 
 
 Jennings drove up a little after eight 
 o'clock. He was resplendent in the 
 glossiest of broadcloth, the most glis 
 tening of linen, the whitest of ties, and 
 the yellowest of gloves. His broad 
 face was rosier than ever. His little 
 eyes twinkled merrily. His square, 
 white teeth showed in a dazzling smile. 
 Rob looked him over critically. 
 
 "I say, Jennings," he questioned 
 irreverently, "where did you get the 
 togs?" 
 
 "In London, dear boy. I couldn't 
 wear the beastly things one gets at 
 this side of the water, you know."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 103 
 
 ' ' I know, " said Rob. He heaved 
 a sigh, which Jennings divined to be 
 one of deep and bitter envy. Then 
 he looked at Ivera, who was all in 
 soft furs and silk that was the shade of 
 a Jacqueminot. "You two," he went 
 on solemnly, ' ' will simply paralyze the 
 people." 
 
 "Poor people!" Iaughe4 the girl, as 
 she lightly leant and kissed him good 
 bye. 
 
 The ball was held in the Grand 
 Opera House. This particular place 
 of entertainment was a long, bare, 
 roughly-plastered room, situated over 
 a general store. It was approached 
 by a flight of stairs that were steep, 
 narrow, and very dirty. It was lighted 
 by flaring oil lamps under tin shades. 
 Boards, each supported by a chair at 
 either end, were ranged around the 
 wall for the accommodation of those 
 who were not dancing. At one end 
 of the room were barrels. On the bar 
 rels were planks. On the planks were 
 set two chairs. These chairs were oc-
 
 104 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 cupied by men with fiddles. A third 
 man, pink-shirted, collarless and hav 
 ing smooth hair, plastered in careful 
 curves on his temples, stood behind 
 the orchestra, and ' ' prompted " in sten 
 torian tones. The place was well filled 
 when Ivera and Jennings entered. A 
 vigorous dance was in progress. All 
 of the women were bareheaded. Some 
 of the men wore hats. The dancers 
 swung, advanced, "chasseyed" and 
 retreated with much sprightliness and 
 energy. Elderly men and women ac 
 tively participated in the terpsichorean 
 proceedings. The youth and beauty 
 of the town and the surrounding ter 
 ritory were out in full force; the youth 
 awkward and radiant in the unwonted 
 novelty of white shirt and collar, the 
 beauty brilliant in the most blasphe 
 mous of hues, maddeningly modest in 
 the briefest of skirts. 
 
 "Ladies in the center and seven 
 hands round!" yelled the prompter, 
 dimly visible through the fog of dust 
 beaten up by the pounding shoes.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 105 
 
 "Balance to your partner Hi, there 
 you, Saul Cotter, I'm talkin' to you! 
 You ain't doin' that figger right. You're 
 balancin' to corner 'stead of to your 
 partner. Tell that girl in the yellah 
 dress she got wrong last time. Now, 
 boys, whoop her up! Try it again! 
 So!" Then the music blared out, the 
 dancers intermingled, and the dust 
 again arose, an irritating incense to 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Queer crowd," Jennings said to 
 Ivera. 
 
 She nodded absently. She did not 
 notice how many furtive glances were 
 cast in her direction, nor dream that 
 many of the feminine dancers present 
 would later copy her city clothes in 
 the cheapest of materials. She was 
 observing how little the middle-aged 
 women had sought to render them 
 selves attractive. Their gowns were 
 ill-fitting; their hair was twisted into 
 a tight knot at the back of the head; 
 they seldom smiled, and they moved 
 stiffly as if performing a solemn duty.
 
 106 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 The surplus vitality of the men dis 
 played itself in impromptu jigs and 
 much swaggering. 
 
 "Oh," she said suddenly", "there is 
 Mollie!" 
 
 Somehow the sight of her maid, 
 attired in a sprigged muslin waist, 
 streamers of pink ribbon and a blue 
 skirt that did not reach her shoe tops, 
 dancing with much spirit and evident en 
 joyment, brought home to Ivera, as 
 nothing had hitherto done, the democ 
 racy of a new Western town, and the 
 feeling of absolute equality that pre 
 vailed. 
 
 "Your servant, by George," ejacu 
 lated Jennings, and he laughed. The 
 idea of mistress and maid meeting at 
 a social function seemed even more 
 singular to him than it did to the 
 American girl. 
 
 "Is Mr. Prior here?" Ivera asked. 
 
 "Yes haven't you met him? That 
 is he standing near Eldridge." 
 
 "That thin, starved-looking little 
 man?"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 107 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 ' ' I wish, " Ivera said, hurriedly, ' ' that 
 you would introduce him." 
 
 "With pleasure." 
 
 Jennings brought up Prior, flattered 
 and smirking. He was so gratified to 
 meet Miss Lyle! It was such a long- 
 hoped-for honor! Had Miss Lyle come 
 as a critic? It was to be hoped that 
 she proved a merciful one. Miss Lyle 
 was charmingly cordial. Would not 
 Mr. Prior sit down and look on? Mr. 
 Prior accepted alertly the seat beside 
 her, indicated by the slightest with 
 drawal of her dusky skirts. 
 
 "And now," avowed Miss Lyle, with 
 the most entrancing air of considera 
 tion, "we shall let poor Mr. Jennings 
 go and enjoy just one dance." The 
 snowy teeth of Mr. Jennings went into 
 temporary eclipse behind his thick lips. 
 To be supplanted and by Prior! 
 
 ' ' Oh, I I seldom dance, you know, " 
 he declared, with his strong English 
 accent, ( ' and I I wouldn't care to, you
 
 I08 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 know, in such er such a mixed as 
 semblage." 
 
 "Then," Miss Lyle said sweetly, 
 "you will be good enough, I'm sure, 
 to see if there is mail for me at the 
 postoffice. Mr. Prior will take care of 
 me until you return." 
 
 So Jennings disappeared down the 
 dirty stairs, disgusted at the favor 
 shown Prior, but upheld by the con 
 sciousness of the impression his costume 
 made on beholders. 
 
 Ivera Lyle went straight to the point. 
 "Mr. Prior, what became of the let 
 ters and personal effects of Mark Dud 
 ley?" 
 
 "They are in my possession. Jar- 
 dine decided they would be safe in my 
 room at the hotel until Rob could come 
 to town to look them over." 
 
 ' ' Have you any objection to sending 
 the trunk out to the farm?" 
 
 "Not the slightest." 
 
 "Then send it please. You may 
 know, "in some embarrassment, "that 
 there are letters of mine "
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 109 
 
 "I quite understand. I shall send 
 out the trunk in the morning. I see 
 Eldridge is steering in this direction. 
 Is he coming to speak with you?" 
 
 "I presume so. How are you,. Doc 
 tor ? Yes, Rob is doing very well, thank 
 you. Mr. Prior, I wonder if you could 
 secure a glass of water. This dust is 
 choking." 
 
 As Prior went clattering down the 
 stairway, Ivera turned to Eldridge. 
 "You attended Mark Dudley, Doctor, 
 I understand?" 
 
 He gave a violent start. His sal 
 low, puffed face, with the peculiarly 
 dilated eyes, looked into her own. 
 ( ' Mark Dudley ? Yes in a way. That 
 is to say, he he had consulted me."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "Weak words have struck." 
 
 Julius Cczsar . 
 
 ^LJIS death was sudden?" 
 
 JT1 ' 'Comparatively so. I had known 
 for some time that his system was shat 
 tered. He had consulted me about his 
 throat and heart. Although I detected 
 no serious symptoms, I advised him. 
 I was at a consultation at Gilead when 
 he died. Prior met me when I re 
 turned, and took me over to the office, 
 but I was too late to be of help." 
 "At what hour did you return?" 
 "About an hour after midnight, I 
 think." 
 
 "Of what did he die, Doctor?" 
 "Of heart failure, following virulent 
 diphtheria. " 
 
 "Does diphtheria usually prove fatal 
 to an adult?"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY III 
 
 It seemed to Eldridge that Prior was 
 a long time gone after that water. 
 "Not usually occasionally. His case 
 was exceptional. His manner of living 
 had rendered him susceptible to heart 
 failure." 
 
 "His manner of living?" 
 
 "Well, he and Rob drank pretty 
 hard, and they didn't get back any the 
 better from their trips to the river towns. 
 Then there was oh, I beg pardon, 
 Miss Lyle." .He jumped up in sudden 
 confusion as he recollected that Ivera 
 Lyle was not the proper person to 
 whom to confide the delinquencies of 
 Mark Dudley and Robert Lyle. 
 
 "It is I who should ask pardon. I 
 was curious, Here is Mr. Prior." She 
 rose, bowed to Eldridge, tasted the glass 
 of water Prior had brought, smiled at 
 the arriving Jennings, and turned away 
 with him. 
 
 ' ' B a lance all. Swing your part 
 ners to the middle and four hands 
 round," shrieked the prompter. " 'Al- 
 leyman' left. Look out there, Fanny
 
 112 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Pollard I said the left. Keep to your 
 own set, you Si Bobinet. Say some 
 on you tell that jay with the red 
 hair from Kansas he don't need to keep 
 on a-swinging Mamie Myers when I 
 say ' alleyman. ' Now, once more ! Let 
 her go, boys ! L a dy in the center, 
 an' gents walk round!" The orchestra 
 resumed their task of sawing the squeaky 
 fiddles. The prompter stamped his 
 foot and clapped his hands, and yelled 
 instruction and admonitions. The shuf 
 fling of the heavy shoes recommenced. 
 The festivity was at its height. In 
 the intervals of the exercise the young 
 men fanned the girls with their hand 
 kerchiefs, and the girls straightened 
 their waist ribbons and surreptitiously 
 twisted their bangs, which were be 
 coming moist and straight, Jennings 
 offered Ivera his arm and led her down 
 the stairway. As they reached the 
 street Jardine, swinging along, caught 
 sight of them. 
 
 "Miss Lyle, what a condescension."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 113 
 
 "Please don't be sarcastic. I have 
 been interested." 
 
 ' ' And you are deadly tired, " he com 
 mented quickly. 
 
 ' ' We are going to have supper at the 
 meeting-house, " Jennings interposed. 
 
 ' ' That will be a dissipation. Good 
 night, Miss Lyle." 
 
 "Good-night." 
 
 A sheet-iron stove stood in the center 
 of the room where the feast was in 
 progress. At the further end was a 
 cook stove, on which coffee stewed and 
 oysters boiled in a way to make Mon 
 sieur Gouffe turn in his grave. The 
 timid light from half a dozen lamps 
 dignified the dinginess of the place. 
 On the tables, around which hungry 
 rustics clustered, overdone turkey and 
 underdone pie disported with an au 
 dacity, a menace, a pallid prodigality 
 appalling to behold. 
 
 ' ' Why, ef it ain't Miss Lyle, " cried 
 a hearty voice. ' ' You set right down 
 here. Pa, he's gone to fetch me a 
 plate of victuals. Your young man kin
 
 114 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 git you some, too. Oh, Mr. Jennings, 
 is it? Glad to meet you, sir. You 
 been to the dance? I wanted reel bad 
 to see the cavortin', but them legs of 
 mine wouldn't let me git up the stairs. " 
 
 ' ' You are looking well, Mrs. McLel- 
 land." 
 
 ' ' I bet I'm feelin' lots better'n he is, " 
 the old lady asserted emphatically. 
 "It was the day I ironed he come 
 a- walking in by the alley, jest as cool 
 as any iceberg I ever see not that I 
 ever seen one, to be quite voracious." 
 
 1 ' But who " began Ivera. 
 
 ' ' He comes right in, " continued the 
 narrator, ' ' an' ef he doesn't walk 
 straight up to an apple tree an' begin 
 to eat it." She drew back and gazed 
 at Ivera, every single spiral of the un 
 curled tip on her bonnet quivering with 
 indignation. 
 
 "If I only knew who " 
 
 "I grabs a stick an' I runs at him. 
 1 Git out, ' I expurgates. He turns and 
 kind of boists up his shoulders this 
 a- way an' he stomps oh, yes, he
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 115 
 
 stomps at me. I brung that stick 
 straight down it had thorns, too onto 
 his nose. Ef he didn't ascend on his 
 hind legs, an' then come down on his 
 hoofs, an' run at me. 'Come,' I 
 screeched to my niece, 'an' bring a 
 broomstick.' Quick as I says it he 
 rars' an' comes at me again. I pro 
 pelled him a second time over the nose . 
 A thorn gets in his eye. He winks and 
 squints this-a-way an' gits all blood 
 shot in the face. I didn't hit him over 
 the horns. Don't you never hit one on 
 'em over the horns. The horns is their 
 weppings. I could have empowered 
 him by myself only fur my shortness of 
 breath. Doublee that's Pa's niece " 
 
 "What an odd name." 
 
 " Her name's Ellen Eliza, but we call 
 her Doublee for short she ups with 
 the broomstick, but he ups with her. 
 He ducks down an' he hists up an' he 
 makes a deposition of her onto me. 
 Up comes Mrs. Stebbins a-runnin' with 
 a hoe. 'Hit him hard!' I calls. 'I 
 can't! I'm a-actin' on the offensive, an'
 
 Il6 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 he's too scared to come nigh me. Hit 
 him hard, ' I says. So she hits him so 
 hard she knocks him down, an' away 
 she runs. ' Come quick,' I calls again, 
 forgettin' all about our feud conc:rnin' 
 that there question of etiquette. ' I 
 kilt him, ' she shouts back. ' Then 
 come back and kill him again ! ' I im 
 plores her, fur he was dancin' a polky 
 on his two remotest feet up to Doublee 
 and me. By way of procrasternationin' 
 I give him a whack that near broke as 
 good a broomstick as was ever in use 
 six months. That time he run." She 
 paused, glowing, triumphant a gladi 
 ator in repose. 
 
 "Here's your supper, Ma," put in a 
 mild voice behind her chair. 
 
 "You jest hold on to that supper, 
 Pa, till I git quit talkin'," she com 
 manded tartly. "Well Miss Lyle, I 
 got Pa to go an' prevaricate the mar 
 shal an' tell him that if that critter 
 come here any more I'd discontinue his 
 career. The marshal said he'd speak 
 to the aggressive party, but the very
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 117 
 
 next day I seen him eatin' Miss Steb- 
 bins' clothesline, so I went and got a 
 bed slat." 
 
 Ivera nodded sympathetically. Jen 
 nings stood with a cup of coffee he had 
 brought held sideways, and the coffee 
 trickling down on his immaculate glove. 
 
 ' ' ' Drive him down here, ' I instructs 
 her at the top of my voice. 'Drive 
 him down here. ' So she druv him. On 
 he come never a-seein' me. All at 
 once he looks up. Our glances met. 
 I swings up the bed slat an' I says, 
 ' Old feller, do you know me ? ' I never 
 got a chanst to use that bed slat. Fur 
 quick as he seen me, an' noted the 
 disparagement of my eyes, then he 
 grunts an' hists hisself an' away he 
 goes gallopin'. And when Pa come 
 home I says to him, 'I aint any trou 
 badour of the arena, Pa, but I kin 
 lick any billy goat in Bubble or out'n 
 it.' An' Pa he says didn't ye, Pa? 
 'Ye kin, Maria I'll bet on that ef I 
 am a Methodist ye kin'." 
 
 Ivera laughed until the tears came
 
 n8 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 into her eyes, and Jennings' harvest- 
 moon face was one great grin of appre 
 ciation. 
 
 Ivera gave Jennings her hand when 
 he left her at the door. " Thank you 
 for a pleasant evening," she said. He 
 drove off to the ranch in a condition of 
 ecstasy. 
 
 Rob looked up at his sister with an 
 affectionate smile as she came into the 
 little parlor. "You're home early, 
 dear. By the way, do you know the 
 whereabouts of your domestic?" 
 
 "Mollie? She was at the dance. 
 Everyone was at the "dance. It was 
 the oddest affair, Rob. Why do you 
 ask?" 
 
 "Her father was here looking for 
 her. He says her child is very ill 
 dying, they think." 
 
 Miss Lyle paused in the act of pull 
 ing off her glove. "Oh Rob! And 
 you could not tell him where to find 
 her? I must go up there." 
 
 "Where? Not to Chourka's?" 
 
 "Certainly. Why not? It is only
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY HQ 
 
 half a mile from here. They should 
 know where to look for Mollie. I may 
 be able to help the child. Aunt Rita's 
 children were always ill, and I learned a 
 good deal from her about what to do 
 in emergencies." 
 
 "I'm afraid to have you go alone, 
 Ive." 
 
 "Oh, I'll be quite safe. Lie down 
 until I get back, or, better still, go to 
 bed. Your poor shoulder will feel bet 
 ter lying down. Don't you see I ought 
 to go?" 
 
 She had never been at the home of 
 the Chourkas, but she had seen it from 
 the road. She walked rapidly west 
 along the rough, brown road, a flitting 
 black shape in the spectral starlight. 
 A dull glow was visible in the window 
 of the little log hovel she approached. 
 She knocked. The door was opened 
 by a stout, full-faced, black-haired man. 
 He was in his stocking-feet, and had a 
 pipe between his teeth. 
 
 "What you want?" he demanded 
 ungraciously.
 
 120 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Let me in, please. I am Miss 
 Lyle. I came to tell you Mollie is at 
 the dance in Bubble. I supposed she 
 came home this morning. She may 
 have gone to her friend's in the town. 
 How is the baby?" 
 
 "Him dying, I guess," the man 
 answered laconically, but with .more 
 civility than he had at first exhibited. 
 "The old woman got him." 
 
 The one room the house contained 
 was so low one could put up his hand 
 and touch the ceiling. A ladder led to 
 a sort of attic. In one corner was a 
 bed covered with a patchwork quilt. 
 On a table covered with red oilcloth 
 were fragments of food and unwashed 
 dishes. In a dirty little stove the fire 
 was almost out. A woman, in a print 
 dress, that was adorned, in fact held 
 together, by patches, sat in a low chair. 
 She was thin and stooped. Her scanty 
 hair was almost white, and her face 
 was seamed with many wrinkles. Most 
 of her teeth were out. Her attitude 
 and expression indicated indifference
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 121 
 
 or hopelessness. A child about a year 
 old lay across her knees. It was 
 struggling to cough, and the sound of 
 its hoarse breathing filled the room. 
 
 "Why don't you do something for 
 the baby?" Ivera cried. "He is very 
 sick." 
 
 The eyes of the woman, dull, sad, 
 sunken, were lifted to her own. ' ' We 
 give medicines," she said. Her glance 
 wandered to a vial on the table. 
 
 Ivera picked it up, read the label, 
 set the bottle down. ' ' But that isn't 
 the right kind of medicine. That will 
 not help him any." 
 
 ' ' Medicine man say that cure every 
 thing. It cure chickens." 
 
 "It won't cure the child. He has 
 croup. You must keep him warm 
 make him throw up, he ought to have 
 a hot bath. Tell your son to hurry 
 and make a good fire. There is no 
 time to lose." 
 
 The brigandish-looking man laughed 
 in his black beard, and the woman
 
 122 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 said listlessly, ' ' Him not my son him 
 my husband." 
 
 "What matter?" She turned to the 
 man imperiously. "Make a fire," she 
 ordered. ' ' Get the room hot. Put on 
 water. Here," to the woman, "give 
 me the child. Haven't you a blanket ? " 
 
 The woman shook her head and 
 pointed to the cotton quilt on the bed. 
 
 "That won't do." 
 
 She looked at the little limbs, cramped 
 and purple under their one calico gar 
 ment, then she took a step backward 
 in the shadow of a high press. There 
 was a swish of silk, a crisp, lawny 
 rustle, then she came forward with a 
 mess of soft white flannel in her arms 
 and wrapped the shivering baby in it. 
 
 "You have mustard? Give it to me 
 quick. Some water lukewarm, yes, 
 that will do." She held the child close 
 in one arm while with her free hand 
 she stirred the mixture. 
 
 ' ' You spoil dress, " the small patient's 
 grandmother said warningly. 
 
 Ivera, trying to pour some of the
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 123 
 
 emetic down the throat of the tiny 
 sufferer, called to the man clattering 
 at the stove: "Let your wife attend 
 to the fire. You go for the doctor and 
 Mollie." 
 
 "No doctor. Doctor charge too 
 mooch." 
 
 "Bring the doctor! I'll pay him." 
 The child began to writhe in her arms. 
 "Another paroxysm is beginning. If 
 we only had hot water to put him in 
 oh!" 
 
 The brassy cough sounded loud in 
 the little room. The door opened. 
 In all her cheap, gaudy finery, her 
 hair frizzed, her face powdered, flushed 
 with dancing and the night wind, 
 Mollie stood on the threshold.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "I am a feather for each wind that blows." 
 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 THE girl's darting look encompassed 
 her young mistress and her parents. 
 Then she broke into a torrent of ques 
 tions, spoken in her native tongue. 
 The man replied to her, still poking in 
 leisurely fashion at the fire, and draw 
 ing deliberate puffs at his pipe. Her 
 mother, who had taken her seat on the 
 bed, picked up an ear of corn and 
 mechanically began to shell it into a 
 tin boiler. 
 
 "Make haste, Mollie!" Ivera cried. 
 "You can make a fire. Get some water 
 hot quick, I tell you. The baby is 
 very sick." 
 
 But Mollie only broke into loud, wild, 
 childish crying, and stood there help 
 less, the tears making streaks through 
 124
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 1 25 
 
 the red and white powders with which 
 she had superfluously painted the roses 
 of her face. 
 
 With a gesture of despair and en 
 treaty Ivera turned to the man. ' ' Why 
 won't you go for the doctor? I've told 
 you I'll pay him. I'll pay you to go 
 for him. Here, Mollie, hold the little 
 fellow. I'll make the fire." 
 
 But shrieking Mollie shrank back. 
 "I no hold him!" she wailed. "Him 
 going to die. Him shake so I no 
 hold him!" 
 
 The Eastern girl stamped her foot 
 on the dirty floor. She turned to the 
 crone, who, with bowed head, was ap 
 parently intent on her task. She pushed 
 the boiler aside and thrust the baby 
 into the woman's arms. The woman 
 held the quivering bundle with the 
 same air of stolidity with which she 
 had shelled corn for the young pigs. 
 One step brought Ivera to the stove. 
 She took the poker from the man and 
 began to rake out the ashes that choked 
 the grate. The man made a motion
 
 126 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 as if to help her, but she flashed an 
 indignant glance at him. 
 
 "I told you to get a physician. If 
 you won't do that you need not do 
 anything." She was filling the stove 
 with a greasy paper and cobs that lay 
 behind it. 
 
 "Doctor no good. If it going die, 
 it going die." 
 
 She twisted a strip of paper into a 
 spiral, held it down the lamp chimney, 
 and thrust it among the cobs, which 
 blazed up bravely. There was a sound 
 in the room which was not the hoarse, 
 strangling cough of the baby. It was 
 a laugh of admiration, low, lazy, chuck 
 ling. Ivera looked up. Chourka was 
 regarding her. The teeth closed over 
 the pipe stem, back of the handsome 
 black beard, gleamed white. The glow 
 in his eyes as they dwelt on her brought 
 the blood to her cheeks. 
 
 "What a brute you are!" she com 
 mented frankly. 
 
 He laughed louder a flattered laugh 
 that shook his heavy shoulders. Mol-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 127 
 
 lie had crept over to where the child 
 lay in the loose clasp of her mother. 
 She was gazing down on it, her round, 
 dark eyes wide with terror. 
 
 "Mollie," Ivera cried sharply, as she 
 swung a kettle of water on the fire 
 that was roaring up the cracked stove 
 pipe, "your father won't go for the 
 doctor. Do you want your baby to 
 die?" 
 
 "Oh, no, no! I go I get him!" 
 
 She ran from the house. A couple 
 of minutes later Ivera heard the clatter 
 of a horse's hoofs as it tore toward the 
 town. Past the Lyle farmhouse, down 
 the quarry incline, over the state line in 
 to Kansas and back again, skirting the 
 railroad track, past the unfenced lum 
 ber-yard, its piles of boards looming 
 white in the night, past the dark file 
 of freight cars, up the deserted street, 
 to the office of Doctor Eldridge, Mollie 
 rode furiously. She dropped from the 
 horse. There was a light behind the 
 blind. She slammed back the door. 
 
 "Come!" the girl-mother panted.
 
 128 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' My baby going die come ! " Eldridge 
 started up, as did Jardine, who was 
 sitting at the other side of the stove. 
 "Miss Lyle, she say hurry!" Mollie 
 entreated. 
 
 The physician picked up his hat from 
 the floor, put it on, reached for his 
 medicine case, and went out to the 
 stable in the rear to hitch up. 
 
 "What has Miss Lyle to do with 
 it?" Jardine asked. 
 
 "She mind the boy. When I go 
 home from dance she there. She hold 
 him. Him awful sick." 
 
 ' ' Mollie !" The stockman went near 
 er the bright, fluttering, young figure, 
 in its absurd finery. ' ' Have you told 
 Miss Lyle about about the baby's 
 father?" 
 
 His voice was threatening. She cow 
 ered back from that and the sternness 
 in his face. 
 
 "No no! I never did! I hope to 
 die if I did!" 
 
 Then she ran out, scrambled up on 
 her horse and went loping back. When
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 129 
 
 she reached home she saw her mistress 
 on her knees beside a tub of steaming 
 water. Her reddish silk sleeves were 
 pushed well up on her white arms. 
 She was holding the little sufferer in 
 the water and skillfully bathing him. 
 
 "Him better!" cried Mollie. 
 
 But Ivera said, "I'm afraid not." 
 The palpitating body on her arm was 
 struggling hard. 
 
 ' ' I know him better! " avowed Mollie, 
 impertinently. "His cough no sound 
 bad." 
 
 Ivera did not answer. She kept on 
 sponging the hot water over the little 
 chest and throat. She noticed that 
 the breathing was more labored and 
 growing weaker. A shadow came be 
 tween her and the light. She glanced 
 up at Eldridge. Leaning forward she 
 swept the warm white flannel from a 
 chair near the stove, and, lifting the 
 baby into it, sat up. Eldridge bent 
 over the baby, looked at it listened. 
 
 "Is there any hope, Doctor?" Miss 
 Lyle whispered.
 
 130 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 The hoarse cough much weaker 
 sounded again. The tiny face turned 
 livid. Eldridge straightened up and 
 shook his head. 
 
 ' ' Mollie, " called Ivera, without look 
 ing up, "come, he may miss you 
 may want you." 
 
 Reluctantly Mollie edged nearer. 
 She peered at the little convulsed 
 creature in Ivera's arms. 
 
 "Do you wish to take him, Mollie?" 
 
 "No no!" panted Mollie. Sud 
 denly she shrieked. For with a pitiful, 
 straining cry the baby had struggled 
 fiercely, stiffened lay very still. 
 
 There was an instant of silence, 
 tense, profound. Then Mollie sprang 
 forward, tore the body of her child 
 from Ivera, and, squatting on the 
 floor, rocked backward and forward, 
 screaming and sobbing. Her father lit 
 a fresh pipe. Her mother picked up 
 another ear of corn, and resumed her 
 interrupted task. Ivera took a step 
 toward Eldridge. She was pale, and 
 her dress was wet and stained. She
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 131 
 
 spoke a few words to the physician, 
 in a low voice. Despite her noisy 
 grief Mollie heard. Her wailing ceased 
 as suddenly as does that of an easily- 
 appeased but fractious child. She no 
 longer rocked herself violently. A sob 
 was stifled at her lips. She lifted a 
 flushed, wet, smeared, eager face. 
 
 ' ' A coffin ? " she echoed. ' ' You buy 
 coffin? It have a plate an' handles? 
 Oh, pretty plate pretty handles!" 
 
 ' ' Whatever you wish, " replied Miss 
 Lyle. 
 
 Mollie scrambled to her feet, and, 
 without even a look, laid the dead child 
 down on the bed. 
 
 "Oh, good, good!" she cried, gladly, 
 and clapped her hands. "Then we 
 have plate an' handles to hang up like 
 other people. Them so pretty. All 
 got them but us the Stepniks the 
 Chivneys all of them. No one die 
 here before but my sister. Pa made 
 her box. Oh, handles an' plate! Words 
 on plate ? " Her countenance was beam 
 ing with satisfaction.
 
 132 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Mollie! Yes yes, words if you 
 care. The name, you mean?" 
 
 Mollie darkened and drew back. 
 "Him got no name." 
 
 1 ' I know. But you can have the 
 first name if you like." 
 
 Mollie looked down sidled up to the 
 speaker. When she spoke it was in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "The man be mad if I tell you that." 
 
 "What man?" 
 
 "That man, " with a jerk of her head. 
 Ivera looked toward the door. For 
 the first time her gaze rested on Jar- 
 dine, who had come in with the doctor 
 and was now talking to him. 
 
 " Oh ! " she said softly. Then, ' ' Tell 
 Mr. McLelland to put ' Mollies Baby ' 
 on the plate. Won't that do?" She 
 was putting on her hat and coat as 
 she spoke. 
 
 "That so nice!" cried Mollie, de 
 lightedly. 
 
 Miss Lyle walked to the door. The 
 men moved aside. Eldridge spoke 
 hastily.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 133 
 
 1 ' May I drive you home, Miss Lyle ? 
 Jardine, I'll wait for you and drive 
 you into town. You can walk as far 
 as Rob's." 
 
 "All right," returned Jardine. His 
 eyes were intent upon Ivera, but she 
 did not look at him, nor give any in 
 timation that she was aware of his 
 presence. Eldridge drove her home. 
 She opened the door that was on the 
 latch, and went into the front room. 
 The lights were burning, but Rob had 
 gone to bed. She stood listening until 
 she heard the sound of firm footsteps 
 coming down the road, then voices and 
 the roll of wheels. 
 
 After a while Rob who had not 
 slept heard low sobbing. 
 
 "What is the matter, dear?" he 
 called out. 
 
 "Nothing," she said, impatiently. 
 " Go to sleep. I'm tired. That's all. "
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 "But, shall I speak my conscience?" 
 
 Henry VI. 
 
 SNOW, fine and feathery, fell toward 
 morning. The day dawned di 
 vinely. The oppressive, intimate Ne 
 braska sky that lowers above the plains 
 seemed more deeply domed, and farther 
 away than usual. Its tint was the soft, 
 grayish blue of a wild pigeon's wing. 
 Pale and fleecy clouds hovered in the 
 north. The world was a world of sil 
 ver, for the snow and the sunshine 
 and the mists had produced a marvel 
 ous mirage, in which clumps of cotton- 
 woods drifted, and farmhouses floated, 
 and in which all objects were unreal 
 and without anchorage. Nowhere was 
 there any color, only delicate shadings 
 and the glitter of the dry snow that 
 fell like diamond dust in powdery pro- 
 134
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 135 
 
 fusion from brown branches. Even 
 the sun was only a great silver ball 
 swimming in a silver sea. The Lyles 
 breakfasted late. Both were homesick, 
 so they talked much and laughed often. 
 
 Ivera had merely mentioned the fact 
 that Mollie's baby had died. Rob was 
 afraid she might ask some embarrass 
 ing questions, but beyond the simple 
 statement she said nothing on the sub 
 ject. 
 
 "Now," Rob declared, rising from 
 the table, "I'm going to take you for 
 a drive. We have no other way of 
 celebrating Christmas, and it's such a 
 rattling fine day." 
 
 They drove for hours, west and 
 north, and east, and then south again. 
 They talked of home and friends, but 
 neither spoke of acquaintances in the 
 new world wherein they found them 
 selves. Everywhere the cornstalks, tat 
 tered and tawny, towered above the 
 white-clad mold. Here and there on the 
 uplands it had been cut and stacked, 
 the pointed shocks looking like gypsy
 
 136 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 tents or the camps of a resting army. 
 The creek was outlined by a hazy pur 
 ple, the same shadow seeming to tinge 
 the bluffs that rose beyond. Still fur 
 ther away were vistas of 
 
 "Ground's most gentle complement, 
 As if God's finger touched but did not press. " 
 
 It was when they were in Kansas, 
 on high ground, and driving northward, 
 that Ivera pointed to the left. 
 
 "Is not that a cemetery?" 
 
 "Oh, yes one of them." There 
 was evasion in the reply. 
 
 " Is it the one in which Mark Dudley 
 is buried?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Let me out here, please." 
 
 He drew rein on the hill. His sister 
 stepped out and walked across the wet 
 drab grass toward the scattered mounds 
 and the upright slabs of stone. No 
 fence or barrier railed this spot off from 
 the rest of the prairies. Several of the 
 graves were decorated. One was cov 
 ered with oyster shells. Another had
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 137 
 
 paper flowers in a glass case. On a 
 few little flags hung limply. But where 
 the decorations were visible the earth 
 had been freshly turned. Others were 
 covered only by the bleached grass and 
 the snow. There were not half a score 
 of slabs in all only one that was im 
 posing. Ivera stood and read the lines 
 on the pretentious headstone: 
 
 Sacred to tl)C Weniorp 
 
 OF 
 
 /foarh /ibcvcDitb DuDleg, etc. 
 
 "Jump in, quick, dear," Robert 
 urged, when she returned to the road. 
 ' ' This ghastly place gives a fellow cold 
 shivers down his spine." 
 
 "Rob, who paid for that extraordi 
 nary headstone?" 
 
 "Prior and and I." 
 
 "And Mr. Jardine?" 
 
 "Great Scott, no! What had Jar- 
 dine to do with it?" 
 
 ' ' I was only wondering. I saw him 
 last night."
 
 138 * LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Jardine? He used never to go to 
 dances. " 
 
 "I did not see him at the dance. 
 I saw him at Chourka's." 
 
 "Lord! Jardine out at that scoun 
 drelly Bohemian's! What took him 
 
 there?" 
 
 "How should I know? He drove 
 out there with Dr. Eldridge, I believe." 
 
 "Who went for Eldridge?" 
 
 "Mollie." 
 
 "Were you at the house before Mol 
 lie got back from the dance?" 
 
 "Yes, I sent her to town." 
 
 "Oh, then she probably met the 
 men together, and mentioned that you 
 were there, so Jardine went out with 
 Eldridge." 
 
 "What difference would my being 
 there make to Mr. Jardine?" 
 
 Robert waited to reach out with his 
 whip and fleck a clod from the shoulder 
 of the off horse before he answered. 
 "Oh, I didn't mean that exactly. 
 You don't get this kind of a sunset back 
 in Illinois."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 139 
 
 When they reached home Mollie was 
 waiting on the doorstep. 
 
 "What is it, Mollie?" Miss Lyle 
 asked. 
 
 "I come some more to work." 
 
 "But, Mollie the baby!" 
 
 ' ' Him put in ground. I got. plate 
 an' two handles all shiny an' pretty." 
 
 "He is buried? Where?" 
 
 " Out in pasture." 
 
 ' ' Why did you bury him there ? " 
 
 "My father say one place good as 
 another, " returned Mollie, indifferently. 
 
 She went about her accustomed 
 duties with her ordinary air of sullen- 
 ness. She did not speak unless ad 
 dressed, then her answers were of 
 the briefest. But when, after supper, 
 Ivera went into the kitchen to give 
 her some directions, Mollie asked, with 
 out lifting her head: "Mr. Dudley 
 him friend of yours?" 
 
 Her mistress turned quickly. "Yes 
 oh yes. I knew him well." 
 
 4 ' So pretty man, " Mollie said, plain 
 tively.
 
 140 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' He was handsome, " Ivera returned, 
 coldly. She moved toward the door. 
 
 "Don't go!" begged Mollie. 
 
 Ivera paused. Mollie was washing a 
 plate with much unnecessary energy. 
 
 "Was Mr. Dudley going to marry 
 you ? " 
 
 Miss Lyle hesitated. Then she said: 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mollie, pouring boiling water over her 
 dishes, suddenly screamed. She had 
 poured it over her wrist also. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" Ivera cried. "That 
 is too bad, Mollie! Wait a minute till 
 I tie it up. Here, let me put on this 
 soda and the white of egg. There 
 don't cry! I'll tie this handkerchief 
 over. It is old and soft. Stand still." 
 
 She worked quickly and deftly. 
 Mollie, standing there dumb and re 
 sentful, noticed the slim, white fingers 
 hovering with butterfly touches over 
 her huge, rough, toil-hardened hands. 
 She jerked her hand away so sud 
 denly the faintly fragrant handkerchief
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 141 
 
 fell to the floor. Her pretty, babyish 
 face flushed darkly. 
 
 "I hate you!" she panted bitterly, 
 "I hate you!" 
 
 "Mollie!" helplessly. "Why do 
 you say that?" 
 
 ' ' I hate you, " the girl repeated. Then 
 she flung her blue print apron over 
 her head, and sank cowering and sob 
 bing in a chair. Ivera looked at her a 
 minute, then turned and went away. 
 When she came back later the dishes 
 had been set away, and Mollie, a great 
 scarlet blotch on her wrist, was sweep 
 ing. 
 
 ' ' I sorry I tell you that, " she mut 
 tered. 
 
 ' ' Very well. We will think no more 
 about it." 
 
 "But Mr. Dudley" 
 
 "No," Ivera interrupted, with gentle 
 severity, "we shall not speak of Mr. 
 Dudley." 
 
 "But," persisted Mollie, leaning on 
 her broom, "you say him dead." 
 
 "Yes, he is dead."
 
 142 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Mollie slowly shook her head. A 
 smile that was half mysterious, half 
 malicious crossed her lips. 
 
 "Him do live," she said. 
 
 -Mollie!" 
 
 "Oh, I know him not dead. Can 
 Mr. Rob hear?" 
 
 "No, he is asleep. Go on." Ivera 
 gripped her fingers tight, and held her 
 breath. 
 
 "It was when my sister I did told 
 you of, that got no plate or handles, 
 was very sick. She tell me get doctor. 
 I take lantern an' walk to Bubble. 
 When I got near town buggy come. 
 I wave lantern. When buggy stop I 
 say, 'This doctor?' Eldridge him al 
 ways have lantern. A man say ' No. ' 
 Then buggy drive quick away. But 
 two peoples was in buggy. One was 
 Mr. Jardine. One was Mr. Dudley." 
 
 Ivera Lyle drew a long, full breath. 
 "Supposing so, what has that to do 
 with Mr. Dudley's death?" 
 
 Nodding mysteriously, Mollie drew 
 nearer.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 143 
 
 "When I get to Bubble folks say: 
 ' Mark Dudley dead. Him died eleven 
 o'clock night before last one. They 
 take him on hill yesterday. ' I go there. 
 I see new grave. I know what in it they 
 call Mark Dudley, but I know, too " 
 She stopped short, flinging out her 
 hand with a little incredulous gesture. 
 
 ' ' Jardine always Jardine !" Ivera 
 thought passionately. Jardine in her 
 strange vision ! Jardine cautioning Mol- 
 lie to silence ! Jardine at the Chourkas ! 
 And now Jardine again! She had 
 not been mistaken then in from the 
 first associating him with the sudden 
 death of her lover? Was he dead? If 
 not, where had he been spirited? And 
 for what motive? 
 
 "Have you spoken to Mr. Jardine 
 about this?" 
 
 "Once. He look hard at me. Then 
 he laugh, an' say: 'You was dream, 
 Mollie." 
 
 ' ' But he warned you not to tell me 
 about it?"
 
 144 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' No. He never say that. He only 
 say I have dream." 
 
 1 ' He did not make you promise not 
 to tell me about it?" 
 
 ' ' Not, " Mollie declared, in confusion, 
 "not about that." 
 
 "About what, then?" 
 
 Mollie walked away to set her broom 
 in the corner. ' ' I don't have talk 'bout 
 that, " she said. ' ' I never tell you any 
 thing, " she went on, without turning 
 her head, ' ' only you get me shiny plate 
 and pretty handles." 
 
 "But, Mollie, when you saw a man 
 alive, whom everyone else believed to 
 be dead, why did you not speak about 
 it? People might have been doing 
 something very wrong. You should 
 have spoken." 
 
 "I don't want get put in jail. Lots 
 peoples gets put in jail." 
 
 ' ' But you think you saw Mr. Jardine 
 driving Mr. Dudley out of town at the 
 time folks in Bubble considered him 
 dead and buried." 
 
 Mollie's full mouth curved contempt-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 145 
 
 uously. "Don't you 'spose, " she ques 
 tioned insolently, ' ' I know Mark when 
 I see him?" 
 
 M ark ! The hot color flew over I vera's 
 throat and face. Mark! 
 
 ' ' You mean Mr. Dudley, " she said, 
 quietly. 
 
 Mollie swung around. Her full, sup 
 ple young form seemed to swell and 
 pulsate. There was a deep, bold look 
 in her eyes that instantly recalled to 
 Ivera the man who had leered at her 
 across the kitchen stove the night pre 
 vious. 
 
 "I mean Mark!" 
 
 For a minute neither spoke. Then 
 Miss Lyle said: "You must not speak 
 to me again, Mollie, of any gentleman 
 I know or have known. Have break 
 fast ready at seven. Mr. Lyle is leav 
 ing for a trip." She passed into the 
 front room and closed the door.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue!" 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 THE next day Ivera drove Rob into 
 Bubble to catch the train for 
 Omaha. 
 
 "I'll be back the day after to-mor 
 row, sure," he promised. "I'll bring 
 you some fruit, and candy, and some 
 thing to read. It's beastly lonely for 
 you out here, after the life you've 
 been accustomed to. Better visit Mrs. 
 Me and talk to her a while before 
 you drive back. She will cheer you 
 up. She always does me. Jerusalem! 
 How mad she was when she found I 
 did not require Pa's tender care!" He 
 laughed with boyish heartiness at the 
 recollection. 
 
 1 ' Cheer me up ! " disdainfully. ' ' Yes 
 with the recital of some of her mor- 
 146
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 147 
 
 tuary memories. For people who have 
 been only a few weeks in the under 
 taking business they have the most 
 varied assortment of experiences to 
 relate one could imagine. Did she tell 
 you about the very tall man who was 
 supposed to be fatally ill, for whom 
 4 Pa ' shipped in a ' coffing ? ' No ? Well, 
 the man didn't die, and now Pa is 
 undecided whether he ought to retain 
 the casket, in the hope of later securing 
 him, or some individual of similar pro 
 portions, or chop a piece off the end 
 and complete it to fit the ordinary 
 mortal." 
 
 Rob's joyous laugh rang out again. 
 "She's great, Ive! She's the salt of 
 my existence out here. She's my social 
 salvation." He glanced at his watch, 
 and whipped up the horses. 
 
 ' ' She evidently considers you a sad 
 reprobate. " 
 
 ' ' Of course. That is why she likes 
 me." 
 
 ' ' You graceless egotist ! " 
 
 ' ' Honestly, dear there's the whistle
 
 148 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 now! go up to see her. And switch 
 her off from 'shop.' Get her to tell 
 you about her ministers. She's strong 
 on ministers when she gets started. 
 Good-bye. Take care of yourself." 
 
 When Ivera knocked at Mrs. Mc- 
 Lelland's door she heard within the 
 sound of a harsh and grating noise. 
 
 ' ' Come in, " called the familiar voice 
 of the mistress of the house. 
 
 Ivera opened the door, but hesitated 
 on the threshold. Was this her stately 
 visitor her majestic neighbor? This 
 old woman, gowned in the most limp 
 and faded of cotton garments, her teeth 
 out, her nose and chin almost meeting, 
 her hair just a gray frazzle around her 
 shrewd old face. 
 
 "Set down. I'm glad to see you. 
 No, you won't bother me a mite. I 
 was goin' to quit, anyhow. I'm plum 
 beat gittin' that spider cleaned. I 
 scraped it for 'n hour with a stone, and 
 then let it set with some hot fat in it, 
 an' scraped again. Of all the plaguey 
 things a rusted spider 's wors 'n any."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 149 
 
 Ivera looked at the battered iron pan 
 in the firm old hand. ' ' It isn't worth 
 all that work, is it ? " she asked. 
 
 "Mebbe not," dryly, "but you see 
 we ain't Cresotes, me and Pa. He 
 ain't sold but one coffing this week, 
 an' that was fur Moll Chourka's child. 
 The profit on that ain't goin' to more'n 
 keep us in sweetnin' fur our coffee an' 
 Composition Tea fur a month. Pa says 
 there ain't no money in babies, any 
 way." 
 
 "But I understood Mr. McLelland 
 was rich." 
 
 "What say?" She ceased scraping 
 the pan, and looked up alertly. ' ' Rich ? 
 Well, he's got some. But I give him 
 his start. Yes, sir, I had two hun 
 dred dollars saved, an' I give it to 
 him. That was over thirty year ago. 
 He owes me that money an' interest 
 now yes, interest. Fur all the time 
 I've been married to Pa I ain't spent 
 a dime once that I didn't look at it 
 twice first. I worked hard when I 
 was young. I raised more bronze
 
 150 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 turkeys than you ever seen. I bet you 
 never raised a bronze turkey. No? 
 That's what I expatiated. Well, its 
 harder'n raisin' a stepchild an' that's 
 hard enough. I know. I've done both. 
 Onct, when I lived near Chicago, a 
 funny thing happened. A city lady 
 was out to my place. She was repairin' 
 her health. I called her to the back 
 door long about the time I knowed 
 the turkeys would be streakin' up the 
 field. After a while along they come 
 the purtiest sight you ever seen. My, 
 but they was fat, and worth twenty 
 cents to the pound. Would you believe 
 it? that woman kinder looked at them, 
 an' then gazed kind of dreamy like over 
 their very heads, an' says she : ' What 
 a beautiful view you have from here, 
 Mrs. McLelland!' Yes, she did. Beau 
 tiful view! Jest a lot of water an' 
 trees. An' never a word about them 
 fat turkeys. I ain't had much use for 
 city women sence then. I reely, don't 
 think, though," she concluded chari-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 151 
 
 tably, ' ' that she was quite right in her 
 head." 
 
 "Perhaps not," Ivera acquiesced, 
 gently. Then she volunteered the 
 statement that she had driven Rob in 
 to catch the train for Omaha. 
 
 "Omaha, eh?" The bright old eyes 
 blinked at her. ' ' I wonder if he'll come 
 home sober this time." 
 
 "Rob! Why, Mrs. McLelland, Rob 
 doesn't drink!" 
 
 "Oh, mercy me!" cried Mrs. Mc 
 Lelland. She set down the frying pan 
 and laughed until her huge body shook 
 so that every heavy white dish in the 
 closet clattered in sympathy. "Rob 
 ain't that kind not Rob Lyle! Next 
 thing you'll be sayin' mebbe is that 
 that old crony of his'n who had to 
 go an' with the angels stand before 
 Pa bought out the undertakin' business 
 here, or he'd have been put under 
 cheaper an' with moire style than Ma- 
 hasby put him fur the same money 
 I s'pose you'll say that he didn't drink 
 neither, or do nothin' else he ought to
 
 152 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 be ashamed on. Ef ever there was 
 a pair of angelical sperits it was them 
 two Rob Lyle an' Mark Dudley!" 
 
 -Mrs. McLelland, I" 
 
 "I ain't a-blamin' you a lick. But 
 that there Dudley ought to've known 
 he couldn't promulgate existence much 
 longer at the rate he was a-livin'!" 
 
 "But, Mrs. McLelland" 
 
 "Oh, a nice fellow yes. Hand 
 some, an' allus a-laughin' liked well 
 enough, too. But my! Weren't he reck 
 less and dissipated, an' in fur deviltry 
 that didn't care who it hurted?" 
 
 "You don't know, I think, that I 
 was to have married Mark Dudley." 
 
 The undertaker's wife slowly greased 
 the pan she had taken up and placed 
 it on the stove. Then she fished her 
 teeth out of the water bucket and de 
 liberately inserted them. 
 
 "No," she said, "I didn't. You 
 ought to be right thankful to the Lord 
 that saved you from doin' it. Ef I'd 
 been prevented by a merciful provi 
 dence from cleavin' to my first or sec-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 153 
 
 ond, I'd have less experience to-day 
 and more peace of mind." 
 
 Miss Lyle's lips were trembling a 
 little, but there was a smile in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "You were married three times?" 
 
 ' ' Was I ? The first was that smart 
 a body couldn't fool him. The sec 
 ond was that simple he warn't worth 
 foolin'. But Pa " She paused ex 
 pressively. "There's this I will say, 
 though, " she concluded briskly, ' ' there 
 ain't one on 'em that ever talked poetry 
 to me. That's a thing I wouldn't have 
 stood. Would you?" 
 
 Miss Lyle's brows, with their beau 
 tiful curve, like the sweep of a black 
 bird's wing, were ever so slightly lifted. 
 "How can I tell, Mrs. McLelland?" 
 
 "Oh, to be sure! "disdainfully. "You're 
 that young. Well, I asked my niece 
 who had the oyster weddin' whatever 
 her and Hiram was a-talkin' about at 
 the gate till all hours nigh on to ten 
 some nights. An' she said he was 
 talking poetry. Did you ever hear the
 
 154 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 beat of that? Poetry! When folks 
 git to that I ain't got one more word 
 to say. Thank heaven, my two first, 
 with all their peculations, never as 
 much as matriculated poetry to me. 
 Fur as Pa goes, he couldn't tell poetry 
 from porcupine an' he ain't ever be 
 come acclimated to porcupines. An' 
 I'm glad on it. Ef there's anythin' I 
 despise its hearin': 
 
 ' The rose is red, the vi'lets blue, 
 Sugar is sweet, an' so is you.' 
 
 I got sense enough to know colors 
 without bein' told, an' when things go 
 right I'm sweet, an' when they go 
 wrong I ain't." 
 
 Ivera recollected Rob's advice. "I 
 think I heard you have a minister in 
 town now, " she said. 
 
 "We have that a pretty one. I'll 
 tell you the way he served me. Pa 
 is a Methodist, an' a prominent one at 
 that. Why, when they talked of build- 
 in' a church here last meetin', Pa he 
 stood right up an' put his hand in his
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 155 
 
 pocket an' give seventy-five cents 
 yes, he did. Who opens up the meet- 
 in' house for service ? Pa. Who builds 
 the fires? Pa. Who rings the bell? 
 Pa. Who brings the preacher home 
 with him to dinner? Pa. An' I kin 
 tell you it takes a pretty prominent 
 man to do all that. Sunday mornin' 
 the preacher told in meetin' as how he 
 wanted to transpose his fambly here from 
 lowy, an' that he didn't have but two 
 dollars an' sixteen cents. He asked 
 the congregation to help him to do 
 mestic delight by a conscription. Now, 
 though I don't approve of preachers 
 progenitin' famblies in as copious a 
 manner as they do, an' neither I know 
 does Pa, our last minister havin' near 
 nine children when he left here, an' 
 this one bein' possessed of posterity to 
 the extent of two an' a half sets of twins, 
 yet when he said that, an' everyone 
 kept so shet of breath you could hear 
 the windmill down at the depot a-swig- 
 gerin' round, Pa he stands up an' he 
 says: 'Never shall it be said that a
 
 156 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 poor and prolific preacher appealed to 
 me in vain!' He's a powerful affluent 
 orationist when he gets a start, is Pa. 
 'Here am I,' he says, 'a undertaker 
 whose business is bad at present, but 
 I'm going to shame the rest on you.' 
 With that he planks down a quarter. 
 His example was contiguous. They 
 all paid up then. When that preacher 
 sat down to our table he was richer 
 by three dollars an' twenty-three cents. 
 Who was to thank? Pa." 
 
 The shapeless form swathed in the 
 brown calico quivered with pride. Miss 
 Lyle, her pretty chin propped on one 
 little gloved hand, murmured a eulo 
 gistic word or two. 
 
 "I treated him kind," Mrs. McLel- 
 land panted on. ' ' I give him all the 
 skim milk he could drink, an' I told 
 him ef he was used to piecin' to step 
 into the butt'ry at any time, an' get 
 hisself some bread and sorghum. Now 
 what more'n that could a body say?" 
 Ivera gently inferred that such hospi-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 157 
 
 tality scouted suggestion as it defied 
 criticism. 
 
 "That day we had potpie fur din 
 ner, an' ef there's one thing I can make 
 its potpie. To be sure the rooster was 
 three year old, but after I'd soaked 
 him over night and biled him hard 
 fur four hours he was that tender 
 you'd think you was eatin' stewed 
 feathers. I'd mixed dough of sour 
 milk an' sody, an' cooked it right in 
 with the chicking. ' Did you ever taste 
 such chicking potpie as that before?' 
 I asks the preacher. He considers 
 like. Then he recapitulates: 'Onct.' 
 I began to approximate wrath, but I 
 knowed he was only trying to discom 
 mode my equilibrium, so I asks 
 holdin' back the second spoon of soup 
 till I heerd the answer: 'Where?' An' 
 he says: 'Here onct.' Then I give 
 him the other spoon of soup, an' we 
 all laughed an' laughed. I says: 'I 
 remember but we had watermillion 
 that day, too. We lived on the farm 
 then. We ain't got any watermillion
 
 158 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 today.' But he repudiates me fur 
 that. 'Mrs. McLelland,' he says, 'I'm 
 that there full of this here potpie I 
 couldn't partake of watermillion ef it 
 was visible to the denuded eye this 
 minitr 
 
 The soft pink in the listener's cheek 
 had deepened into a rose. 
 
 "That was a tribute!" she said 
 warmly. 
 
 ' ' We had what was left of the pot- 
 pie cold for supper, an' jest as the 
 preacher finished soppin' up the last 
 speck of gravy with a bit of bread 
 he says: 'To-night I'm goin' to an 
 nounce a protracted revival meetin'.' 
 'When to begin?' I asks. 'To 
 morrow evenin',' he says. Then I 
 tells him straight: 'No, you ain't. 
 Pa can't be revived jest now. He's 
 got a shoat to kill to-morrow, an' he 
 can't bother about the bell. He's got 
 corn to shell, an' he won't have no 
 time to go buildin' fires.' He says: 
 'Can't them things wait?' And I ex 
 postulates they couldn't. 'Procraster-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 159 
 
 natin',' I says, 'Pa never was, an' 
 procrasternatin' Pa never will be. A 
 nice revivin' you'd have without Pa 
 the pretty voice he's got, too.' No 
 more was said then, but that night 
 when I looked at that preacher a- 
 prayin', I says to myself: 'Well, ef 
 you ain't got the queerest shaped head 
 that was ever hung onto any man!" 
 
 "What kind of a head was it?" 
 questioned Miss Lyle from behind the 
 bit of cambric held over her rebellious 
 lips. 
 
 ' ' I can't eggsactly make my meanin' 
 reprehensible to you, but it was that 
 kind of a shape that ef I was a widow 
 next week, which I've been twice before, 
 an' ef he was the only man to be had, 
 I wouldn't have him." 
 
 Ivera insinuated that this was stat 
 ing the case very strongly indeed. 
 
 ' ' While I was convolving this in my 
 mind I heard him say: 'Brethren we 
 will begin to-morrow night a protracted 
 revival meetinT You could have 
 knocked me over with a corncob.
 
 160 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 When we got home I says to him: 
 'To sustain his prominent position in 
 sassiety Pa must consent, but I regard 
 with aversion your onconsideration. ' 
 He retired, an' me and Pa was settin' 
 by the stove discussin' the inconven 
 ience of bein' revived jest then, when 
 down he come askin' ef he could have 
 some blankets. Blankets, mind you! 
 Now, we got one pair that Pa give me 
 fur a Christmas present ten year ago, 
 thinkin' they be as exceptionable as 
 any other trinket. We never put 'em 
 on but once that was the night of the 
 blizzard. Then we laid 'em reel light 
 over everything else. But Pa put him 
 in them blankets, an' let him sleep in 
 them all night. Down he comes to 
 the sink in the mornin', an' there he 
 stands, a-combin' his hair with my 
 comb, an' a-singing' psalms at the top 
 of his voice. I was washin'. 'Its a 
 handsome day,' I says reel pleasant, 
 conflectin' how his conscience must have 
 retrograded him every time he turned 
 in them blankets. 'Kin I rense out
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 161 
 
 any thin' fur you ? ' I knowed right well 
 he'd only two handkerchiefs an' three 
 paper collars. 'No,' he says, short 
 as berry cake an' stiff as starch. He 
 sets down to the table an' puts into 
 him all the coffee that was left, nigh 
 a loaf of bread an' a slab of cold pork. 
 Then he takes his hat. 'Where air 
 you goin'?' I asks. 'To visit my 
 flock,' he says. I never set eyes on 
 him from that minit to this!" 
 
 The deep depression of the tone 
 dismayed Miss Lyle. "What hap 
 pened him?" she inquired quickly. 
 
 Mrs. McLelland shook her head. 
 
 "I never knowed a thing about it 
 until that snub-nose Mrs. Stebbins 
 come a-runnin' over. You know we 
 had made up our dissuasion concernin' 
 a question of etiquette after our fight 
 with the billy goat, in which she ably 
 reinstated me. Still I can never have 
 any real infinity fur a lady who uses 
 hog's lard to make her bangs stick, an' 
 put vaniller on her handkerchief. ' Your 
 preacher is a-stayin' up to Muggsley's, '
 
 1 62 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 she says. 'He declares Sister Mc- 
 Lelland insulted him, an' there's goin' 
 to be a investigation.' Think of that, 
 now, will you? A investigation of me! 
 Me, who lived in Illinois only a hun 
 dred and twenty mile from Chicago. 
 Me, whose husband give that same 
 impecuniary preacher a quarter to bring 
 his prodigy from lowy! Me, who give 
 him all the potpie he could master- 
 cate, an' permitted him to piece, an' 
 let him lie in blankets that was fit fur 
 the President! 'Its more'n a outrage, 
 Pa,' I says, 'it's a preponderance. 
 An' when that investigationin' begins 
 ef they don't hear from me, preacher, 
 sweet-smellin' Christian an' all, it's a 
 pity,' I says to Pa, 'it's a pity!"
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "He is rash and very sudden in cboler." 
 
 Othello. 
 
 OOX come for you," Mollie an- 
 D nounced in her usual resentful 
 tone. 
 
 ' ' A box for me ?" Ivera stood, her 
 fur coat half pulled off, and looked in 
 quiringly at her maid. 
 
 "Boy say Mr. Prior send it." 
 "Oh, yes, I was expecting it. That 
 is all right." She felt relieved to con 
 sider that Rob was away. She did 
 not attempt to open the trunk until 
 Mollie was asleep. She regarded the 
 leather trunk with emotion. The in 
 itials "M. M. D." stamped on one end 
 recalled the inscription on the showy 
 headstone. With a poker she wrenched 
 the lock open and threw back the lid. 
 The contents of the trunk were neatly 
 arranged. She soon found what she had 
 163
 
 164 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 sought her own letters and photo 
 graph . These she promptly tossed into 
 the fire. Then she searched for a 
 thick, small morocco book. She found 
 two. She recollected that Mark had sent 
 her the diaries he had kept during the 
 first three years of their separation. 
 Then he had written that he felt con 
 vinced such gifts evidenced conceit on 
 his part, and that he would bore her 
 with no more details of his uninterest 
 ing life. Here, then, was the limning 
 of almost two years. She closed the 
 trunk, pushed it into a corner, and sat 
 down to discover, if possible, some clew 
 to the death or disappearance of her 
 lover, either of which she persisted in 
 regarding as mysterious. 
 
 The little room was warm and cozy. 
 Without a mighty wind raged. It rat 
 tled every limb of the cottonwoods that 
 formed the break of the young orchard. 
 It shook all the clumsily constructed 
 doors and windows. It puffed the car 
 pet into wavy woolen bubbles all over 
 the room. And it kept the windmill,
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 165 
 
 prisoned in winter bondage, straining 
 and struggling like a fettered giant. 
 
 Ivera glanced hastily through the 
 diary bearing the earlier date. The 
 memoranda were chiefly of business, 
 and contained no hint that might guide 
 her in her quest. She laid it down 
 and opened the second book at ran 
 dom. She read a single line. One 
 name caught her* eye. The writing 
 was shaky to illegibility. The line she 
 read ran: "That damn saint of a Jar- 
 dine suspects something." 
 
 "Jardine. Always Jardine!" She 
 started up to carry the book nearer the 
 lamp, to read by better light the al 
 most undecipherable sentences which 
 preceded and followed the suggestive 
 words. The sound of footsteps ap 
 proaching the house startled her. Some 
 one was trying the front door. Rob 
 had been gone two days. Might it 
 not be he? 
 
 "Hello, Ive! Let me in." 
 
 She dropped the diary she held be-
 
 1 66 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 side the other on the little table and 
 flew to open the door. 
 
 ' ' Rob, dear. When you did not get 
 home earlier I made up my mind not 
 to expect you until to-morrow night. 
 Come in. Have you had supper? Such 
 a maniacal wind isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, it's a beastly night." 
 
 His voice sounded odd. His eyes 
 were dull and his face looked red and 
 stupid. He pulled off his cap and over 
 coat and sat down near the stove. 
 
 "Did you make a satisfactory ar 
 rangement with those grain dealers?" 
 
 "Very satisfactory. They gave me 
 the three thousand I claimed." 
 
 "That is good." 
 
 "I haven't all of it. I ran against 
 some hard luck down there. The game 
 was a bit too steep, and I where in 
 thunder did you get that?" 
 
 He had started up at sight of the 
 trunk. 
 
 "Mr. Prior sent it out." 
 
 "Who asked him to send it here?"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 167 
 
 "The hell you did." 
 
 "Robert!" his sister cried. She 
 looked at the flushed, wrathful, boyish 
 face. A new comprehension darkened 
 in her eyes. 
 
 He muttered an apology. He was 
 conscious of his own condition. His 
 nervousness and irritability were the in 
 evitable result of his indulgence. They 
 would wear off with abstinence as they 
 had worn off before. But he had not 
 reckoned on finding the trunk of his 
 former partner staring him in the face. 
 Opened too, by Jove! He and Jar- 
 dine had once talked over Dudley's 
 absurd habit of keeping a diary. Both 
 had recollected the conversation the 
 night the office was burned, when Jar- 
 dine saved the trunk. Who could say 
 what that scatterbrain had not put on 
 paper? The door of the little stove 
 stood ajar, Lyle could see the heap of 
 charred and blackened papers within. 
 
 "What have you been burning?" 
 
 "My letters."' 
 
 "Well, I must say I think it deuced
 
 1 08 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 bad form, and not at all what I'd have 
 expected of you, Ive, to go prying into 
 poor Mark's belongings this way." 
 
 She regarded him steadily. She had 
 grown very white while he was speak 
 ing. "I have merely burned my let 
 ters and my picture. Those and his 
 diaries are all that I am interested in. " 
 
 "His diaries?" He glanced around 
 quickly. He saw the little leathern 
 books on the table. He picked them 
 up. "These?" he queried. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I'll read them first. I think that 
 is only proper. There may be things 
 in them Mark would not like you to 
 know. " 
 
 He put the books in his breast 
 pocket. His lips were "fumbling for 
 a sort of smile." 
 
 "You are sure there is nothing in 
 them you would not like me to know ? " 
 
 "What rubbish. Forgive me, dear, 
 but you are provoking. As if it were 
 not only the the honor of my friend 
 I care about. You are morbid on this
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 169 
 
 subject. The isolation here is increas 
 ing your tendency to brood over the 
 death of your lover. I think I'm 
 very unselfish to admit it that you 
 would be happier at home than out in 
 this wretched desert." 
 
 "Won't you give me back those 
 books, Robert?" 
 
 "Not," stubbornly, "until I've read 
 them." 
 
 ' ' You are unfair, " she cried, despe 
 rately. ' ' I have the first right to them. 
 I shall tell you now what I told Mr. 
 Jardine some time ago the reason I 
 came west. I came to find out how 
 Mark Dudley died." 
 
 "Wh at?" quavered Rob. His 
 mouth was twitching. 
 
 "I am going to have the grave 
 opened, " she went on resolutely. ' ' I 
 shall discover if he died a natural 
 death, or if he still lives." 
 
 ' ' You shall not, " Rob Lyle screamed 
 in a voice of terror. "I'll never allow 
 it. You must not disgrace me by 
 doing anything of the sort." She was
 
 17 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 thunderstruck by his dismay. He was 
 frantic with fear. How comparatively 
 calm Jardine had been when she had 
 mentioned her suspicions to him! And 
 yet it was Jardine, she felt assured, who 
 had played the principal part in the 
 tragedy connected with the death or 
 disappearance of her lover. 
 
 ' ' Disgrace you ! " she said, shrinking a 
 little from his face, his expression, his 
 breath. She passed into her own room, 
 and closed and locked the door. There 
 was just a dim, gray glimmer in the 
 outer world when she bent over Mollie 
 and gently shook her. 
 
 ' ' Mollie Mollie, wake. Get up ! " 
 
 Mollie sleepily shrugged the bed 
 clothes higher around her shoulders. 
 
 ' ' So soon ? " she murmured. 
 
 "Yes, at once, Mollie." 
 
 When the girl appeared in the 
 little kitchen she saw that the fire was 
 burning, and that breakfast was on the 
 table. She ate, making no comment. 
 Ivera laid a handful of silver by her 
 plate.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 1 71 
 
 "Get your clothes together, Mollie, 
 I am sending you home. I shall not 
 need you any more. I am paying you 
 extra because I have not given you 
 notice." Mollie carefully counted over 
 the money. It paid for two weeks she 
 had not served. 
 
 "You send me away why? I do 
 work right. You send me because I 
 say that night ?" 
 
 ' ' No no. Not because of anything 
 you said, Mollie. You have done the 
 work very nicely indeed. But I am 
 not going to keep house any longer. 
 ..Mister Rob will get on as he did before I 
 came. That is all. I am not angry 
 or annoyed with you. Good-bye." 
 
 But when Mollie had collected her 
 scant belongings she still lingered on 
 the doorstep. In her short skirt and 
 little tight jacket, her face fresh, rosy, 
 drowsy-eyed, the blending of lamplight 
 and dawn lending her flattering illumi 
 nation, she looked more childish than 
 ever. But she was evidently ill at 
 ease. She stared down at the toe of
 
 172 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 her clumsy shoe. She punched holes 
 with her finger in the paper covering 
 the bundle she held. Once she quickly 
 lifted her lashes, and as hurriedly they 
 drooped again. Then she moved a 
 step inward, and stood her glistening 
 white teeth sunk in her full red under- 
 lip, awkward but unembarrassed, un 
 decided but imperturbable. 
 
 Ivera, moving swiftly and lightly 
 around the kitchen, washing up the 
 dishes, putting them away, arranging 
 a clean tablecloth, glanced toward the 
 motionless figure. "Well," she asked 
 kindly, "what is it, Mollie ?" The girl 
 dropped her bundle turned. She 
 made a rush in the direction of her 
 young mistress. She flung her arms 
 around her. She burst out crying. 
 
 "I want kiss you I do want kiss 
 you. I no hate you like I say. 
 You too good. I say that lie because 
 I get mad mad when I think him 
 love you. I did not want that him 
 should love you ever ever only me;"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 173 
 
 and she pressed her lips to the cheek 
 near her own. 
 
 Miss Lyle disengaged herself. 
 
 ' ' Whom did you wish should not love 
 me, Mollie?" 
 
 But Mollie only stood and stared at 
 her, her round eyes dark with doubt. 
 ' ' Do you mean " Ivera broke off 
 was silent. Suddenly she brought the 
 question out with a wrench, "Do you 
 mean Mr. Jardine?" Mollie looked puz 
 zled. All at once a dazzling smile irradi 
 ated her heavy features. She nodded 
 emphatically and laughed, although the 
 tears were still bright on her lashes. 
 
 "Yes yes him, of course Mr. 
 Jardine. " She smiled all the way home. 
 The consciousness of a good and clever 
 act sustained her. Then there was 
 the prospective pleasure of playing with 
 the pretty plate and handles, and ex 
 hibiting them to those who, unfortu 
 nately, could not boast the possession 
 of such trophies. She found the an 
 ticipation delightful.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ' ' And as we walk along I dare be bold." 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 HPHE town looked insignificant and 
 1 straggling, and glaringly new when 
 Ivera entered it that day. The sun 
 shone, but a bitter wind the everlast 
 ing wind of the plains was blowing. 
 
 Mrs. McLelland, massive and ma 
 jestic, stood at her back door. She 
 wore a sunbonnet, regardless of the 
 season, and a little red shawl fluttered 
 back from her heavy shoulders. The 
 wind blew about her cotton gown, re 
 vealing her huge but not ungainly pro 
 portions. On her feet were white hose 
 and green carpet slippers. 
 
 ''Good morning, Mrs. McLelland!" 
 said Miss Lyle. 
 
 The old lady responded with a short 
 nod. "Mornin'. Now, what I want 
 to know is this: Did you see a hen 
 174
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 175 
 
 an' three chickings as you come into 
 town?" 
 
 "A hen? And three chickens?" 
 
 "That's it. Pa, he paid a nickel 
 apiece fur the chickings, an' I wouldn't 
 be su'prised ef he gave fifteen cents fur 
 the old hen. An' all on them has gone 
 an' lost theirselves. I seen the woman 
 yistiday Pa bought 'em of. She's let- 
 tin' us have all the fowls we want, 
 seein' we ain't got the farm any more, 
 by way of pay on a coffing fur her 
 mother-in-law. But I doubt ef the old 
 lady is a-goin' to die. She comes of 
 the Briggs stock, an' they was allus 
 powerful contrairy, every-one on 'em." 
 
 "But, "gasped Ivera, "paying for 
 for that before the person is dead!" 
 
 "Oh, she's a mighty forehanded 
 woman. She gits a new hat every 
 year a Easter hat. She buys it along 
 in fall when the flowers an' straw an' 
 such is cheap. Then she gits it out 
 an' wears it in spring before the shops 
 here has got a bit of goods from St. 
 Joe or Kansas City. She leads the
 
 176 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 fashions she do! She's forehanded 
 all right. When her sister's husband 
 lay sick, an' Eldridge said as how he 
 couldn't get well, she yanked the sheets 
 off n his bed reel quick. ' Ef that's so, ' 
 she says, 'and I expect you're right, 
 I got to git these rensed out now so 
 they'll be ready fur the berryin', seem' 
 they're my best pair.'" 
 
 "The invalid should have been com 
 plimented," Ivera ventured softly. 
 
 "I don't know as he was." 
 
 Mrs. McLelland's visitor experienced 
 a hysterical desire to laugh. Was 
 there no spiritual ozone in all the prairie 
 atmosphere? The air seemed to reek 
 of mortality. Her own tragic quest, 
 the ghastly task she must instigate, 
 the conversation of this prosperous and 
 avaricious old woman all were of 
 death. 
 
 ' ' I wonder, " the girl hazarded, with 
 a sort of defiant flippancy, ' ' if she was 
 particular to see the sheets were well 
 aired. " 
 
 Mrs. McLelland regarded her visitor
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 177 
 
 doubtfully a moment. The she laughed 
 uproariously, and brought one up 
 lifted hand down with force on the 
 palm of the other. 
 
 "Land's sake! Fur fear he might 
 git cold! That's a good one. I must 
 tell Pa. Not that Pa's in the humor 
 to face me now, seein' he's been ac- 
 quisitin' of fowls that has been brung 
 up like gypsies. I said yistiday to that 
 woman who's so forehanded: 'How 
 did that black hen look like what you 
 sold Pa?' An' she reciprocates: 'It 
 warn't a black hen. It were brown, an' 
 had a white collar. ' I told her I wouldn't 
 have forgotten it ef I seen it, but Pa 
 brought them onreliable fowls up after 
 I'd retired. I never forget the look 
 of a hen I seen onct not ever in my 
 life." 
 
 "Mrs. McLelland, may I come to 
 board with you for a while?" 
 
 "Eh? Didn't Rob git back?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Full?" 
 
 Miss Lyle's dark blue eyes blazed. 
 
 12
 
 178 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' You may not ask me such questions 
 or infer anything of the sort, Mrs. Mc- 
 Lelland!" 
 
 "Lordy, I won't. What's the use 
 of gettin' huffy about a few glasses, 
 more or less? I didn't think on your 
 bein' thin skinned, but most city folks 
 is, I guess. Why, there was a city 
 woman I knowed onct the same that 
 kep' talkin' about the view when my 
 turkeys was a-comin' up the yard an' 
 she got real riled 'cause I said her 
 daughter looked like she come of folks 
 that was subject to epileptic fits." 
 
 Ivera laughed. "How absurd!" she 
 said. 
 
 "Oh, but she did look thataway," 
 Mrs. McLelland insisted, gravely. 
 
 ' ' I mean how absurd of her mother 
 to resent such a remark." 
 
 ' ' Wan't it, though ?" warmly. ' ' Now, 
 what are you willin' to pay fur board?" 
 
 "Oh, whatever you say. That 
 doesn't matter." 
 
 "Would three dollars a week be 
 about right?"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 179 
 
 ''Oh, five at least." 
 
 ' ' No three. We ain't Cresotes, as 
 I told you, but it wouldn't be treatin' 
 you with proper unanimity to take a 
 cent more'n that. You can't eat more'n 
 a dollar an' a half's worth a week I bet, 
 if you was to try. That is to say," 
 she ended doubtfully, "judgin' by the 
 looks of you." 
 
 ' ' May I have a cup of tea now, Mrs. 
 McLelland?" 
 
 ' ' What ? Ain't you had any break 
 fast? An' it nigh onto ten o'clock!" 
 
 1 ' I did not care for any when I left. 
 And and I walked in." 
 
 ' ' Sakes alive, come in quick, an' set 
 down! You're whiter'n my bleached 
 tablecloth. Wait! Lay down on this 
 sofy a bit. It's too narrer fur me, but 
 I guess you can fit onto it. What took 
 Rob to Omaha, anyhow?" 
 
 "He had trouble with a grain firm 
 there about some corn that had been 
 shipped." 
 
 Mrs. McLelland was lumbering around, 
 brewing the tea and placing eatables on
 
 180 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 the little table that was pushed up 
 against the wall. "Them lads allus 
 has lots of business to take 'em off," 
 she avowed, with a knowing smile. 
 ' ' They got to git money, an' when 
 they git it there's some of it disap 
 pears mighty quick I kin tell you. I 
 suppose Prior'll be the next to go galla- 
 vantin'. It's most time fur him to git 
 that insurance money." 
 
 "What insurance money?" Miss Lyle 
 asked, idly. She was lying on the little 
 hard sofa, watching the movements of 
 her hostess. She was very tired. The 
 warmth of the room was pleasant, the 
 rest refreshing. 
 
 "The insurance he's goin' to git on 
 the life of Mark Dudley. Do you like 
 your tea biled more'n ten minutes?" 
 
 ' ' On the life " Ivera began faintly, 
 and stopped. She was sitting straight 
 up on the adamantine lounge, her 
 startled gaze fixed on the face of the 
 undertaker's wife. 
 
 "Yes. Didn't Rob tell you Prior 
 has a insurance of five thousand dol-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY l8l 
 
 lars comin' to him on the life of his 
 partner? Oh, it's all fair enough, fur's 
 I see. Dudley suspicioned, I bet, he 
 couldn't live long at the rate he was 
 a-goin' it. Prior had helped him out 
 of lots of his scrapes. Prior didn't git 
 into scrapes himself. He ain't no hand 
 fur hosses, or women, or whisky. He 
 only cares fur money, an' fur them ex 
 periments he's allus at Old Nick ex 
 periments I call 'em. So he stood by 
 Dudley so often 't was only right Mark 
 should git out insurance fur him. It's 
 as broad as it's long to my notion. 
 Here, drink your tea." 
 
 Miss Lyle found it difficult to swal 
 low the bitter green decoction set be 
 fore her. 
 
 Prior then was to benefit by Mark 
 Dudley's death! Somehow she had 
 not associated him with evil intention 
 or act. How many were implicated in 
 the tragedy she felt positive had oc 
 curred? She was deeply mystified 
 bewildered. 
 
 "You ain't got any appetite," Mrs.
 
 1 82 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 McLelland remarked. "Well, I ain't 
 got much myself since I received that 
 turn about the preacher. Then it's 
 very discommodin' to have a neighbor 
 that don't approximate genteel con 
 duct. Now, that little black-eyed Mis' 
 Stebbins come a-dancin' in here last 
 Sunday. She had enough vaniller on 
 her handkerchief to scent a whole ice 
 cream sociable. She come bouncin' in 
 thisaway!" Here Mrs. McLelland la 
 boriously rose and treated her guest to 
 a ponderous and practical illustration of 
 Mrs. Stebbins' agility. "'I hear there's 
 to be immersionin' in the crik,' I says 
 to her, ' an' that you're goin' to become 
 a Christian. Have you the proper 
 sperit?' She tosses her head an' she 
 laughs this away ! Ha Ha Ha ! an' 
 she says: 'I'm a-goin' to get a bath. 
 My dress is perfeckly bewitchin'. I guess 
 the sperit Tom got fur me to take 
 after the duckin' is good. 'Twas the 
 best they had in the drug store.' 'The 
 only speritool aid you'll need, onless 
 you git a chill, is grace,' I restricted
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 183 
 
 her. ' Look at Regina Dickson. They 
 had to break the ice to dip her, an' 
 she never as much as sneezed after. 
 She said as how the Lord went down 
 with her.' That little snub -nose thing, 
 she bust out laughin' in my face. 
 ' Mebbe he did, ' she says, ' but it was 
 Hank Brooks come up with her!' You 
 see Regina she slipped under the ice, 
 an' was most drowned." 
 
 ' ' Yes, " murmured Ivera absently. 
 
 "There's Pa now," said Mrs. Mc- 
 Lelland, as a dragging step sounded 
 without. "Business is slack. I can 
 allus tell by the way he walks. Pa's 
 a bit lame, an' it seems like when trade 
 is dull he limps more'n common. Pa," 
 addressing the old man who entered, 
 ' ' is that Harper woman dead yet ? She 
 ain't, I s'pose," as Mr. McLelland 
 shook his head mournfully. 
 
 ' ' They do -say the doctor gives hopes 
 of her. He's a new doctor over from 
 the county seat. He's a queer man, I 
 understand allus dreadful afraid he'll 
 lose a case."
 
 184 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Oh, Pa!" There was deprecation 
 and sympathy in the exclamation. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. McLelland?" 
 said Ivera. 
 
 ' ' It's Miss Lyle. Glad to see you, 
 ma'm." 
 
 ' ' Miss Lyle's goin' to board with us 
 a spell, Pa. Wants to see some city 
 life, I expostulate." the old lady said, 
 laughing and winking. 
 
 Mr. McLelland was a thin, white- 
 haired, white-bearded, rosy-cheeked old 
 man. When a simple tiller of the soil 
 his manner had been bluff and genial. 
 Since assuming the important position 
 of undertaker a change had come over 
 him. His speech now indicated a cal 
 culating reserve, and from his mild 
 blue eye a stern resentment gleamed 
 on those too discouragingly robust to 
 suggest near need of his services. 
 
 "You're from Chicago, Miss Lyle. 
 Great place, Chicago." 
 
 "You are familiar with the city?" 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes. I know all about Chicago. 
 I've been there. I went there about
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 185 
 
 five year ago with hawgs. I seen the 
 river, an' the street cars, an' a political 
 parade. I started out to see the lake, 
 but it was a good bit from the depot 
 seemed a good bit walkin' along in 
 the shade of them big buildin's. So I 
 let the lake slide. I made up my mind 
 it would be there next trip." 
 
 "How long were you in the city?" 
 "Oh, a good while nigh onto two 
 days all told. I didn't calculate to stay 
 more'n a hour or so, but there was 
 such a heap to see I made up my mind 
 to take the whole show in. What's 
 the matter, Ma ?" For Mrs. McLelland, 
 fishing her teeth out of the water 
 bucket with one hand, was making en 
 ergetic motions behind her back with 
 the other. She floundered around, 
 wiping her wet hand on her apron. 
 
 "It's your progenitor, Pa. I seen 
 him a-comin' just now through the slats 
 of the cellar winder. Don't ask him 
 to dinner, mind. There ain't nothin' 
 but hard biled eggs, an' cheese, an'
 
 1 86 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 mebbe as much fried potatoes ef I git 
 time to fry 'em as would blind you." 
 
 Ivera rose from the table. Her color 
 had come back. Her eyes were alight 
 with amusement. 
 
 "Who is he?" she asked. 
 
 "Sam Mahasby, the man I bought 
 out, " explained Mr. McLelland. ' ' How 
 do, Sam?" 
 
 The man to whose business Mr. Mc 
 Lelland had succeeded was fat and 
 florid. His hirsute appendages were 
 sparse and straggly. He was drawl 
 ing of speech, roving of eye, and idiotic 
 ally amiable. He was duly presented 
 to Miss Lyle. Miss Lyle talked to 
 him. Indeed, she developed such un 
 suspected conversational ability, such 
 wit, such fascination, that her host 
 forgetting the disappointing improve 
 ment in the condition of Mrs. Harper 
 sat and chuckled behind his white 
 beard, and his thrifty wife poured sor 
 ghum instead of vinegar on the cold 
 slaw she was preparing, and sat down 
 in a tremor of helpless consternation
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 187 
 
 when she perceived her mistake. Mr. 
 Mahasby beamed, and fidgeted, and 
 laughed loudly, and stole a disturbed 
 glance at his own reflection in the tin 
 boiler on the stove, and decided to get 
 a shave before he was a day older, 
 and wished his boots were polished, 
 and withal, in view of the apparent ad 
 miration of the young lady from the 
 East, laid some flattering unction to his 
 soul after the manner of his suscept 
 ible sex. When he finally dragged his 
 reluctant feet to the threshold, remark 
 ing that he had a good four mile 
 straight east to walk home, Miss Lyle 
 decided that she would feel better for 
 a saunter, and would go with Mr. Ma 
 hasby as far as the bluffs. 
 
 ' ' Did you ever see the beat of that, 
 Pa?" gasped Mrs. McLelland. But 
 Pa had suddenly become misanthropic. 
 4 ' You can't never trust a woman to do 
 what she's expected to, " he returned, 
 gloomily. "I wonder how Mis' Har 
 per is gittin' along. " 
 
 Meanwhile Ivera stepped daintily
 
 1 88 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 along beside the burly ex-undertaker. 
 He was talking. "Eldridge doctored 
 him. I didn't know anything about 
 the matter until Prior called me up 
 about two in the morning, and told me 
 to bring a coffin to the grain office right 
 off. I asked what price. He swore 
 at me. He said: 'Hang the price!' 
 only it wasn't hang he said. I went 
 down there. Mr. Dudley lay on the 
 lounge. I took his measurements. Then 
 I went away. When I come back 
 about five Mr. Prior and I put him in 
 the body, I mean. I went home to 
 get a cup of coffee. When I come back 
 Jardine and your brother was there 
 with Prior. They berrid young Dudley 
 over on the hill in Kansas. That's all 
 I know about it. Was you acquainted 
 with him?" 
 
 ' ' Yes. It is growing colder, I think. 
 Good-bye, Mr. Mahasby. " She turned 
 to go back to town. Mahasby stopped 
 her. 
 
 "Would you have any objection," 
 he asked, "to go buggy riding with
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 189 
 
 me? I'd like awful well to take you 
 to the Litterary." 
 
 ' ' Oh, thank you, no! It is very kind 
 of you to think of it. But I couldn't. 
 I don't go anywhere." 
 
 "We 11!" He looked at her ad 
 miringly. ' ' You ain't got to, of course. 
 But I never seen a lady I'd like so well 
 to keep company with." 
 
 "I am sorry!" 
 
 "So'm I." He stood kicking the toe 
 of one shoe against the heel of the 
 other. "I guess I'll have to take up 
 with Melinda Carberry. She's nice, but 
 she ain't stylish. I like ladies I keep 
 company with to be stylish. Well, so 
 long!" 
 
 "Good-bye, Mr. Mahasby!" 
 
 She went back to McLelland's. Rob 
 was waiting for her.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " I find myself a traitor with the rest." 
 
 King Richard II. 
 
 HE came quickly to meet her. She 
 noticed that he looked pale and 
 agitated. 
 
 "See here, Ive, I call this a pretty 
 mean way to treat a fellow. I had 
 no idea you were going to desert me 
 because I spoke hastily last night. I 
 was nervous. I know I said things I 
 shouldn't. You'll come back with me, 
 won't you?" 
 
 "No, wait a minute, Rob. I'm not 
 saying this because I am offended or 
 resentful. I determined to come and 
 stay in town until all these harassing 
 doubts concerning the fate of Marik 
 were settled. These doubts become 
 more complex, and press more heavily- 
 all the time. I am in a better posi 
 tion here to learn what I must know." 
 190
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY IQI 
 
 "What," he asked roughly, "put 
 the idea in your head that there was 
 anything wrong?" 
 
 ' ' If I were to tell you, you would say 
 a dream. Whether it was indeed a 
 dream or a vision, or a telepathic sum 
 mons I don't know I never may know. 
 Whatever it was it brought me here. " 
 
 He laughed grimly. "And I flat 
 tered myself you had come to visit 
 me." 
 
 "You may remember I told you the 
 morning after I arrived that I wished 
 to come on account of Mark's death." 
 
 ' ' I remember. But I could not con 
 nect your journey with an attempt so 
 so unconventional. " 
 
 "Thank you. Unconventional is 
 really a milder word than I have any 
 right to expect." 
 
 ' ' You have not discovered anything to 
 justify your extraordinary suspicions?" 
 He was looking searchingly down upon 
 her. 
 
 ' ( I have learned enough to make me 
 resolute enough to learn more."
 
 192 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' I suppose there is nothing I can say 
 that will induce you to give up this 
 damned quixotic business?" 
 
 ' ' Nothing. I must know the truth in 
 this matter as soon as may be. After 
 ward, Rob, " with a glimmer of a smile, 
 " I'll go back and keep house for you if 
 you want me." 
 
 ' ' I shan't want you, " he flung back 
 hotly, ' ' if you are bound to make our 
 name common talk for every cursed 
 corn-shucker in the country ! " 
 
 Involuntarily, she took a step back 
 ward. Then she said with gentleness: 
 ' ' Oh, there is no fear of that. Good 
 bye for the present, Rob. " She turned 
 toward McLelland's. 
 
 ' ' Good-bye, forever, as far as I care, " 
 Rob Lyle muttered angrily. He swung 
 off down the street and went into the 
 grain office. It was untenanted. He 
 passed into the small room in the rear. 
 A cot bed stood in one corner. Other 
 wise the place was arranged as a rude 
 sort of laboratory. Prior, fitting a wire 
 into a hollow glass tube, looked up
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 193 
 
 angrily as Lyle dashed in. He con 
 doned his scowl by a nod, when he saw 
 who it was. 
 
 ' ' Come in, Rob. Shut the door. I've 
 been wanting to see you." 
 
 "You knew where to find me." 
 
 "I got a check from the insurance 
 company yesterday," Prior remarked. 
 
 "Keep it!" Rob advised, briefly. 
 
 Prior laid down the wire he had been 
 manipulating, and took his thin knee 
 into the clasp of his bony hands. ' ' You 
 don't want any of it?" 
 
 "Not a red." 
 
 "You went into the deal," Prior re 
 minded him, "exactly on the same 
 ground I did." 
 
 "Not by a damn sight, I didn't!" 
 Lyle corrected him. " I went in on the 
 same ground poor Mark did. We both 
 were your dupes. He pays a higher 
 penalty than I but mine is severe 
 enough, God knows ! How could we 
 guess at the risks you were willing to 
 run at the extent of your infernal
 
 IQ4 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 schemes ? I tell you what, Prior, I feel 
 like a murderer every day I live." 
 
 He was sitting on the side of the cot, 
 his soft felt hat twisted between his fin 
 gers, his attitude and expression indic 
 ative of profound depression. Prior 
 grinned across at him. 
 
 ' ' Oh, I wouldn't feel that way about 
 it!" 
 
 '" Wouldn't!" jeered the boy miser 
 ably. ' ' You couldn't ! " Prior looked at 
 him keenly. ' ' There's a revival in town. 
 Have you been getting religion ? " 
 
 "Getting nothing." 
 
 ' ' Then you'd better change your mind 
 and take a couple of thousand," Prior 
 facetiously suggested. 
 
 Lyle pulled his hat into shape. ' ' Stick 
 to your blood money," he advised, 
 moodily. 
 
 "Blood money? Man, it isn't that!" 
 
 Lyle kicked the door shut as some 
 men came into the office, and began to 
 talk about the advance on corn. ' ' No " 
 he said, ' ' it's worse by a bucketful. "
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY IQ5 
 
 There was a silence. Then Prior 
 asked : ' ' See here, what's got into you ? " 
 
 "Decency maybe." 
 
 ' ' Has your sister been prodding your 
 conscience on this subject?" Rob stood 
 up and walked over to Prior. Lyle was 
 slenderly built, but he was athletic and 
 had well-trained muscles. At least 
 Prior thought so, after Rob had taken 
 him up, and shaken him, and set him 
 down again. In that space the walls 
 rocked and closed in around him. 
 
 "We won't talk about my sister," 
 Rob decided. 
 
 He went out into the office and ex 
 amined the books, while Prior got back 
 his breath and lost some of his color. 
 Jennings waddled in. He was in ranch 
 costume at least in the kind of a cos 
 tume London tailors deem adapted to 
 life on the plains. His ocher-hued cor 
 duroys tightly covered his stout legs. 
 His short coat was trimly belted. His 
 large felt hat was adorned with gold 
 braid and a gold buckle. His high boots
 
 196 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 were of color and texture foreign to any 
 ever seen in the West. 
 
 ' ' Well met ! " he cried cordially. ' ' I 
 intended going out to call on Miss Lyle 
 to-night. May I trouble you to mention 
 the fact that I am coming?" 
 
 ' ' She is visiting in town at McLel- 
 land's." 
 
 ' ' The undertaker's ? Dear me ! There 
 are no social distinctions in this country, 
 are there? Absolutely none. Well, 
 I shall call." 
 
 Call he did that very night. He was 
 fluent, rosy, friendly, impressionable, 
 and arrayed as Solomon in all his glory 
 never remotely dreamed of being ap 
 pareled. 
 
 After that his visits were frequent. 
 At first Ivera enjoyed them, but as his 
 hope became evident to her, she wished 
 devoutly that he could be banished, with 
 out an actual edict. One evening she 
 sat knitting a scarf for Mrs., McLelland. 
 Jennings, in an optimistic ecstasy, 
 watched her. The best room was duly 
 and dimly illumined by a kerosene
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 197 
 
 lamp, that had red flannel in its glass 
 bowl, and rested on a crocheted mat 
 of colored wools. The room, with its 
 horsehair furniture and ingrain carpet, 
 was trim, clean, comfortless. The only 
 decorations were tidies "drapes" the 
 Bubbleites called them. They hung on 
 chair backs, and enfolded the family 
 Bible, and swayed in limp elegance from 
 the frame of the solitary picture, and 
 dangled from the rigid sofa pillows. 
 "Yes," said Mr. Jennings, as if con 
 tinuing a conversation, "there are no 
 end of lovely girls in England." 
 
 "So I understand," returned Miss 
 Lyle demurely. 
 
 "You've never been abroad?" 
 
 "Not since I was a child." 
 
 "That," promptly and adroitly, 
 "must have been only yesterday." 
 
 "Oh, it is several years back, I as 
 sure you. I was three years at school in 
 Belgium." 
 
 ' ' But you don't know old England ? " 
 
 "Very slightly." 
 
 ' ' I should like to show it you Lon-
 
 1 98 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 don, and all the best of it, you know. " 
 
 "Including the lovely girls?" The 
 needles glittered in her slim, flying rin 
 gers. 
 
 "There's not one of them," ardently, 
 "who could hold a candle to you not 
 one." 
 
 Miss Lyle's dark lashes lifted. She 
 flashed him a glance of sweet incre 
 dulity. "You flatterer! she murmured. 
 "Oh, indeed, no!" Jennings cried. He 
 pushed his chair farther away from the 
 stove, and mopped his glowing forehead 
 with a huge square of monogramed 
 cambric. "To be exact, I have never 
 seen any lady who could be compared 
 to you not even the Queen of Eng 
 land!" 
 
 There! The treasonable truth was 
 out! 
 
 "Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried Ivera 
 Lyle. She laughed delightedly. "I 
 should think not!" 
 
 ' ' No, " Jennings gravely insisted, ' ' I 
 wouldn't mention Her Majesty in the 
 same breath with you."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 1 99 
 
 "Mr, Jennings!" 
 
 The tone of reproof entranced him. 
 
 1 ' I know it isn't exactly right for me 
 to speak in this way and I've always 
 been a loyal subject, Miss Lyle. But 
 I can't think it is er er wicked in 
 this case, to transfer allegiance from 
 one sovereign to another!" 
 
 Across the mesh of black wool she 
 held Miss Lyle gazed at him with 
 sparkling eyes. 
 
 "You have certainly kissed the blar 
 ney stone, Mr. Jennings ! " 
 
 ' ' No, " Jennings contradicted serious 
 ly, "I didn't, although when I was in 
 Ireland I visited the spot with that in 
 tention. But I found to do so I would 
 be obliged to allow myself to be sus 
 pended in mid-air by the heels. I 
 couldn't oh I really couldn't, you 
 know, consent to appear in such an 
 an undignified position." The thought 
 of Mr. Jennings frantically acquiring 
 sweetness of tongue in the attitude men 
 tioned sent Miss Lyle into a fit of laugh 
 ter that she struggled vainly to control.
 
 200 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Mr. Jennings smiled broadly in sym 
 pathy, and congratulated himself on his 
 powers of entertaining. 
 
 ' ' Of course, " he said, reverting to the 
 question of his preference for Ivera, 
 "Her Majesty in one way suffers in 
 comparison to you. She " 
 
 ' ' Only, " with an innocent glance, ( ' in 
 one way?" 
 
 Jennings squirmed on his slippery 
 seat. "Well, er there are other 
 differences. What I was about to men 
 tion was the matter of age. Her Maj 
 esty is older, you know." 
 
 ' ' Oh, not so much, " Miss Lyle an 
 swered, her eyes bent on her work, 
 "only about half a century or more." 
 
 "That's so!" he assented, brighten 
 ing. "Sometimes half a century is 
 quite a good while, and then again it 
 isn't. I can't fancy a fellow rinding it 
 long if, " very valiantly indeed, ' ' he had 
 the beatitude of spending it with you ! " 
 
 The needles in Miss Lyle's white rin 
 gers interlaced with wonderful quick-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 2OI 
 
 ness. ' ' Oh, one would never be blessed 
 in my society, Mr. Jennings!" 
 
 "I'm sure I should be," protested 
 Peter. He furtively loosened his neck 
 tie, and flapped his handkerchief in his 
 shining face. He felt that he was get 
 ting on famously. 
 
 ' ' That, " Miss Lyle said severely, ' ' is 
 because you have no idea what a ter 
 magant I am." 
 
 1 ' I like to be abused, " avowed Peter, 
 humbly. 
 
 The dimples deepened in the pink 
 velvet of Miss Lyle's cheeks. ' ' Even 
 Rob couldn't endure me, " she declared. 
 
 "How I wish you would " 
 
 ' ' Oh, Mr. Jennings, please bring me 
 that runaway ball ! " 
 
 Peter promptly sprawled after the 
 rolling sphere of black yarn. He se 
 cured it under the sofa, and returned 
 it to Miss Lyle. He was redder than 
 ever from the exertion. Even his heavy 
 hands, with their blunt finger-tips and 
 square, polished nails, were blushing. 
 
 "Thank you. That ball has the
 
 202 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 most insane preference for escaping, 
 and for eluding capture. It led you 
 quite a chase." 
 
 "Oh, I'm being led a worse chase 
 than that, " broke out Peter, desperately, 
 And then he added, "By you!" 
 
 The girl made a little protesting ges 
 ture. 
 
 But Peter was not to be held longer 
 in check. "I'm well off," he blurted 
 on. "At least my father is well off, 
 and I'll come in for everything." 
 
 "That is a pleasant certainty." 
 
 "Isn't it, though?" he cried, beam 
 ingly. ' ' Now, there's Jardine. I don't 
 believe he'll ever get another penny 
 from his people. They staked him a 
 couple of times before he came out 
 here." 
 
 ' ' You knew Mr. Jardine in England ?" 
 
 "Y es. Not intimately. My father 
 held a er a position, under his father. 
 Of course, I can't expect any girl to 
 admire I mean to fancy me, who 
 knows Jardine. He isn't as young as 
 he might be, and he dresses most
 
 LltfE A GALLANT LADY 203 
 
 abominably, but somehow there's an 
 air about him I daresay you've no 
 ticed it," he faltered, breaking off in 
 deep dejection, 
 
 "I don't know Mr. Jardine well," 
 Ivera said, coldly. 
 
 "Is that so?" Jennings cried, joy 
 ously. ' ' I thought it was quite absurd 
 of course, but I thought you and he 
 were such friends ! I know he is cleverer 
 than I and some would think lots bet 
 ter looking. But well, he couldn't 
 think more oiyou, Miss Lyle. I haven't 
 run through a couple of fortunes, and 
 I don't have to work to get money 
 now, and er and I why, I adore you, 
 Miss Lyle! That's just the word for it. 
 I adore you!" 
 
 Ivera tossed her knitting on a chair, 
 and stood up. "I am so sorry you 
 have spoken, Mr. Jennings. It was all 
 my fault. I should have stopped you. 
 But I did not think you really cared. 
 I wonder if you will forgive me?" 
 
 He looked down at the sweet, peni 
 tent face.
 
 204 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' There is not any hope for me, then ? " 
 
 She slowly shook her head. 
 
 "But you are sure you don't care 
 for Jardine?'" 
 
 "I don't care for any man in that 
 way!" she cried passionately. She 
 thought of the grave on the wind-swept 
 hill. "Not for anyone!" she repeated.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "How oft to-night 
 Have my old feet stumbled at graves!" 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 A BITTER January night. The 
 wind had ceased snarling, but the 
 frozen snow crackled, and there was 
 something uncanny about the gray 
 light that filled the gap between the 
 sky and prairie. The theatrical troupe 
 of a patent medicine company held 
 forth in town that night. As it was 
 a ' 'free show" many horses were hitched 
 along the streets. No attention was 
 paid to one belated wagon rattling 
 south. Those in the Grand Opera 
 House were listening to the wit of the 
 strangers with eyes and ears and open 
 mouths. The men in the Owl-King 
 saloon, brimming with whisky and 
 hilarity, kept their revolvers popping 
 at a certain mark, and roared appro- 
 205
 
 206 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 val or derision as the shot struck or 
 flew wide. Two men sat on the box 
 of the spring wagon. Past the yellow 
 gleam from the last window pane, 
 across the railroad track, around a 
 curve, under towering cottonwoods, over 
 a wooden bridge spanning the state 
 line dividing Nebraska from Kansas, 
 the horses sped. When up a steep 
 hill and on level ground again, the 
 driver turned to the right. He drove 
 out on what was apparently a stretch 
 of barren prairie, but the jolting over 
 low mounds, and the upright boards 
 revealed by a lantern flickering ahead 
 of them, proved they were in a grave 
 yard. 
 
 "This here's the one." said a cau 
 tious voice. 
 
 McLelland, holding the lantern, had 
 approached the wagon. The men 
 jumped out. They took spades, shov 
 els, pickaxes, out of the back of the 
 wagon, went to work. A couple of 
 other men who had walked up the hill 
 joined those by the grave. They talked
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 207 
 
 with McLelland a few minutes. The 
 latter hobbled away into the shadow 
 where a little black figure was stand 
 ing. "The men you saw over at the 
 county seat are here. They say if 
 there is any doubt about his being 
 buried here at all, it would be better 
 to open the coffin right now. We can 
 take it up town later if he's in it, 
 you know." 
 
 "Very well," replied Ivera Lyle. 
 
 When she had appealed to the county 
 authorities for permission to disinter 
 the body, she had met with many ob 
 jections. Chemical analysis would be 
 practically out of the question at this 
 date. If the man had really died of 
 virulent diphtheria, the exposure of the 
 remains would be fraught with danger 
 to the living. 
 
 "If violence were responsible?" she 
 had asked. 
 
 "We have no reason for supposing 
 anything of the sort." 
 
 She offered other arguments in 
 ducements. She was young, beautiful,
 
 208 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 wealthy. Perhaps the latter fact proved 
 most potent in prevailing. At any 
 rate, it was with the sanction and in 
 the presence of the authorities, that 
 the grave under the ostentatious head 
 stone was finally opened. Now, save 
 for the sound of the striking pick, the 
 shuffling feet, the frozen clods flung 
 from the spades, there was silence on 
 the hill. Below, the scattered lights 
 of the town showed dull and distant. 
 
 How long Ivera Lyle stood there 
 listening, waiting, she never knew. She 
 was roused by McLelland speaking to 
 her. "Come," he said. 
 
 She shuddered back, "Tell me," 
 she entreated. 
 
 ' ' Come, " he said again. ' ' There is 
 nothing to fear." 
 
 She moved mechanically forward. 
 She found herself standing beside a 
 deal box. The lid of the coffin inside 
 had been unscrewed removed. She 
 looked down. She saw a long, brown, 
 canvas bag, which had been ripped
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 209 
 
 open. It was filled with excelsior and 
 stones. That was all. 
 
 "Look out," a man cried, flashing 
 up the glare of a lantern in her face. 
 "The lady is fainting." 
 
 "No no," she murmured. "Mr. 
 McLelland, will you take me back 
 now?" 
 
 The old man helped her into a buggy, 
 and they drove home in silence. The 
 town was dark and still. There was 
 a veiled light in the billiard hall. Be 
 fore the doctor's office, Eldridge, with 
 a medicine case in his hand, was 
 scrambling on horseback. 
 
 Mrs. McLelland, enormous, shape 
 less and toothless, in her stocking feet, 
 and shaking with suspense, opened the 
 door for her husband and Miss Lyle. 
 
 "Well?" she questioned. 
 
 "The coffin was empty. An' say, 
 Ma, you never did see the like of the 
 way that linin' had changed color. An' 
 Mahasby must have charged a bigger 
 profit than I do, too." 
 
 ' ' Oh, Pa. You raise the price to as 
 14
 
 210 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 much as your progenitor charged. 
 Don't let anyone sophisticate you like 
 that. Miss Lyle, I bet you feel good 
 that Mr. Dudley ain't dead after all. 
 But where is he, is what I want to 
 know. Sakes, you must be sick. I 
 never see anyone look so. Pa, you 
 get her a taste of that Composition 
 tea. Its very inoculatin' when you git 
 a turn. I b'lieve I'd have fainted plum 
 away that day Mis' Stebbins gave me 
 such a collapse about the preacher 
 a-goin' to investigate me, ef I hadn't 
 swallered a couple of sups right quick. 
 Things will come out all right, my 
 dear, an' ef they don't, we all got to 
 have some reservation to the inimit 
 able." 
 
 Miss Lyle, smiling a little at the 
 comforting reflection of her hostess, 
 went up the stairs with light, lagging 
 step. 
 
 Morning came, clear, calm, omi 
 nously quiet. Not a shred of withered 
 grass moved anywhere, not a bare 
 branch stirred. Mrs. McLelland was
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 211 
 
 making soap. A neighbor had dropped 
 in. The smell of hot grease and lye 
 came up between the loose boards of 
 the floor. Ivera could hear the talk 
 of the women. The petty gossip, the 
 unwarrantable inferences, the unchar 
 itable suppositions, oppressed and hurt 
 her. She put on her wraps and slipped 
 out, turned north. Soon she was on 
 an unfamiliar road, walking rapidly. 
 Suddenly she became conscious of a 
 deadly chilliness in the air. She turned 
 hastily to retrace her steps. The cold 
 increased a most appalling cold. It 
 penetrated her fur-lined coat, and 
 seemed to pierce the marrow of her 
 bones. The low-lying Nebraska sky 
 hung nearer than ever. She fancied 
 that she could almost put up her hand 
 and touch it, as if it were a tangible 
 object. Then she became aware that 
 it was snowing fast, fine, thick, dense, 
 blinding snow. She hurried back along 
 the road she had come, but found she 
 could not see ahead for the white wall 
 that closed in, before around her.
 
 212 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Was this bitter whiteness snow? She 
 had always thought of snow as soft, 
 gentle, tender. This that assailed her 
 was icy, and so sharp it stung like fly 
 ing particles of metal where it touched 
 her face. The wind that had sprung 
 up blew from every quarter, east, west, 
 north, south. It commingled, shrieked, 
 and swirled, and eddied the falling snow 
 into a thousand fantastic drifts and 
 spirals. Around a little dark, struggling 
 figure, that wild whiteness surged and 
 revolved. Ivera Lyle was strong and 
 brave of heart, but many a man per 
 ished in that memorable blizzard. On, 
 she would keep on, she told herself she 
 would keep going. It could not last 
 forever. She must come on the town 
 soon. But only to be able to see any 
 thing. If she could only make out the 
 fences, or the shape of a dwelling, or a 
 landmark of any kind. Close to her 
 eyes was the whirling snow only the 
 snow. A few steps more. Surely she 
 was moving in the right direction. In 
 any case she must keep in motion. It
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY - 213 
 
 were death to surrender. But the cold! 
 She had never imagined such cold. It 
 went through her body like sword 
 thrusts. Her feet ached with the agony 
 of it. Her hands hung numb. The 
 very sight seemed freezing in her eyes. 
 Still she battled on buffeted on. But 
 suddenly she stumbled, stood still. 
 She could go no further. The snow 
 was no longer white. It had become 
 a prismatic thing, violet, yellow, crim 
 son. It must be growing warmer. The 
 awful pain of the cold was passing from 
 her. She felt all at once oppressed 
 with fatigue. A delicious drowsiness 
 weighed her eyelids down. She must 
 rest sleep. 
 
 "Ivera. Oh, my dear, my dear!" 
 She heard the cry through a mist a 
 thick, white mist. Then a coat was 
 wrapped around her, she was lifted into 
 a vehicle, and she knew no more until 
 she found herself looking at the plas 
 tered walls of Mrs. McLelland's spare 
 bedroom, and the bright patchwork 
 quilt on Mrs. McLelland's spare bed.
 
 214 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Have I been sick?" she asked. 
 
 "I dunno as you can rightly call 
 it sick," Mrs. McLelland responded. 
 "You had been pretty nigh froze to 
 death. You went off a-gallavantin' 
 with a blizzard a-comin' up, an' you 
 got caught in it that's what you done. 
 Mr. Jardine, he see you a-crossin' the 
 hill, and he come here to find out ef 
 you was back. When I reciprocated 
 that you warn't he tore off like a in 
 compatible creature. 'Twas a good 
 thing he found you. That was a full 
 week ago." 
 
 "Has Rob been here?" 
 
 "Lord yes. They all been here. 
 That silly Moll Chourka a-walkin' in 
 to know ef you was dyin', an' that 
 there tomato-colored Mr. Jennings a- 
 a-settin'in my parlor, and a-rockin' his- 
 self in my rocker, an' a-droppin' tears 
 on my red plush album that he was 
 purtendin' to be circumventin'. Oh, 
 they was all here yes." 
 
 ' ' I'm dreadfully sorry you've had so 
 much trouble."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 215 
 
 "Oh, I don't call it trouble, but it 
 seems like everything counts. I've 
 been a good deal rousted one way an' 
 another. Hogs is down to 2.35, an' 
 them Pa was savin' to ship won't bring 
 much. " 
 
 "That is too bad." 
 
 "An'," despondingly, "that there 
 Harper woman ain't dead yet." 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 "About the worst of all is what hap 
 pened Susanna. Pa, he went and 
 killed her." 
 
 "Killed who?" 
 
 "Susanna my old cat, you know. 
 I hadn't no cat when I moved here 
 from Illinois. I felt reel friendless till 
 the grocer give me one. She was a 
 most beautiful cat, white with a yel 
 lowish cast about her. An' that polite. 
 I never see a cat so polite an' generous. 
 She'd bring a mouse an' put it right 
 down at my feet. She wouldn't offer 
 to tech it till I'd say 'Help yourself, 
 Susanna!' After a while she become 
 affiliated with a sore head. Did you
 
 2l6 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ever have a cat that had a sore head ?" 
 Miss Lyle failed to recall having 
 possessed a feline so afflicted. 
 
 ' ' It wasn't nice, " she said, in placid 
 retrospection, letting her elephantine 
 proportions creak back in the chair. 
 "Folks who were not strong to their 
 stummicks objected. Pa, not wantin' 
 to hurt my feelin's, would perspicuously 
 go out when Susanna come in. Often 
 cold evenin's when Pa 'ud go out I 
 used to git down the black bottle from 
 the clock shelf, an' make myself a bit 
 of Composition Tea, which is warmin' 
 and soothin', but which Pa is kinder 
 close of. Susanna kep gettin' worse 
 an' Pa he stayed out'n doors a good 
 deal I had her in a box behind the 
 stove. One night he came in with 
 chillblains. 'Ef you'll bile a drop of- 
 water, Maria,' he says, 'I'll see ef I 
 kin swaller a few sups of Composition 
 Tea. ' With that he reaches up behind 
 the clock, an' I felt my heart a-scram- 
 bulatin' all over my buzzum. 
 
 "'What's this?' he says. 'There
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 217 
 
 ain't none.' "Pa,' I says, 'you bein' 
 out'n the house so much evenin's, an' 
 me tending Susanna alone, I got reel 
 run down. I got chills. I had to take 
 Composition Tea occasional to keep off 
 par paresis. ' 
 
 '" What's that?' asks Pa, lookin' at 
 the empty bottle, an' then at me. 
 'It's somethin' I've read about in the 
 papers.' I says; 'it comes from menial 
 aggravation and general probability of 
 the system. An' what with Susanna ' 
 
 "But Pa cut me short there. 'See 
 here, Maria, ' he says, ' Susanna might 
 be kep' comfortable by a family as 
 owned a drugstore. But ef tendin' 
 Susanna is goin' to cause you to use 
 up a quart of Composition Tea in ten 
 days, I'm thinkin' she'd better be put 
 where she won't be givin' folks the 
 latest fashion in complaints.' I see 
 how put out Pa was, so I offered to 
 git him some of the catnip tea I'd been 
 givin' Susanna in her milk, but he re 
 taliated my kindness. Nex' mornin' 
 what should I see but Pa, when he
 
 21 8 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 thought I was busy sewin' carpet rags, 
 a-climbin' the fence with suthin' under 
 each arm. Cold water began to drizzle 
 down my back. I run to Susanna's 
 box. It was empty but I knowed it 
 would be, fur I missed the aroma be 
 fore I seen Susanna had departed. I 
 felt like the man in the song who seen 
 the valley smilin' before him where 
 lately he left her behind, but I knowed 
 I couldn't ketch up to Pa to abstract his 
 attention from Susanna. When he 
 come home I never said beans. The 
 nex' mornin' when I poured his coffee, 
 I was silent as the minx. His dinner 
 was settin' on the table when he come 
 home at noon, an' I seen he was 
 a-watchin' me. Supper was the same 
 way. Oh, it was reel onpleasant to 
 to make him squirm, but I had to com 
 plicate my pride that Pa's action had 
 prodded. " 
 
 "It must have been hard for you," 
 Ivera murmured. 
 
 ' ' It were. It were hard fur Pa, too. 
 By'n by, ' Maria, ' he says. I looks at
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 219 
 
 him. ' Ef you git me the quart bottle, ' 
 he says, meek-like, 'I'll go down and 
 git it filled with Composition Tea.' 
 'Yes, Pa,' I says, jumpin' up quick 
 fur fear he'd change his mind. 'An' 
 I don't bear you malice, Pa, though you 
 don't need to think that I hadn't a pre 
 sentation in my mind of what you was 
 goin' to do, when I see you straddlin' 
 the fence with Susanna under one arm, 
 an' a gun under the other. ' I had the 
 kettle bilin' when he got back, an' the 
 Composition Tea was reel soothin' but 
 I miss Susanna." 
 
 The next day, as Ivera sat in a wooden 
 chair by the kitchen stove, there was a 
 knock at the back door. Mrs. McLel- 
 land had gone down town. Ivera called, 
 "Come in!" Jack Jardine opened the 
 door. He half drew back then came 
 forward. He was roughly clad in cor 
 duroy and leather. His high boots 
 were splashed with mud. He stood, 
 hat in hand, his gaze bent full upon her. 
 
 "You are better," he said. "That 
 is good."
 
 220 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ' ' I hear I owe my life to you, Mr. 
 Jardine. " 
 
 "That is nonsense. I happened 
 along and drove you here. That is 
 all." 
 
 There was a silence. He found him 
 self noticing that the ribbons on her 
 gown matched her eyes. 
 
 Suddenly she spoke of the subject he 
 abhorred. ' ' Do you know that I had 
 Mark Dudley's grave opened?" 
 
 "No, I did not know." 
 
 He had himself very well in hand, she 
 decided. ' ' You are aware of what we 
 found in the coffin, Mr. Jardine?" 
 
 He bowed. Again that palpitant 
 silence came between them. "Will 
 you tell me," she implored, " Where 
 is Mark Dudley?" 
 
 That high bred face of his with its 
 fine features, its luminous hazel eyes, 
 all at once looked aged hardened. 
 "Ask your brother," he commanded. 
 
 ' ' Rob " The word was uttered in 
 supreme amazement. 
 
 "Rob yes." One stride across the
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 22 1 
 
 small space intervening brought him 
 to her side. He grasped her hand with 
 a fierce grip. 
 
 "Why will you be so cruel? You 
 know you must know that I love you 
 better than anything on earth or in 
 heaven. I'm not blaming you for my 
 folly. One might as well blame a rose 
 for being a rose. Good-bye."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "For here's a paper written in his hand." 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing. 
 
 ^WOU better wrap up warm ef you 
 I got your mind sot on goin' down 
 to answer that, " advised Mrs. McLel- 
 land. "It's the kind of day I despise. 
 It ain't a-thawin' thinner nor a-freez- 
 ing solider. Seem like it's standin' 
 still. An' the snow over on them bluffs 
 has peeled off in patches like frostin' 
 that's ett off'n a plum cake. You'll git 
 back in time fur dinner? Pa ain't 
 home. He's gone to see about bury- 
 in' that Harper woman, who has ceased 
 opposin' her will to her Maker's, an' 
 gone from this vale of tears like a 
 obedient Baptist should. Her son an' 
 Pa picked out a coning the linin' of 
 which will be most becomin' to a woman 
 with reddish hair. You know Pa keeps
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 223 
 
 coffings of all sizes and denominations. 
 I'll wait to cook till you come, fur I 
 do allus say it's fearful frivolous eatin' 
 alone. Don't you go huntin' another 
 blizzard, now!" 
 
 1 ' I shan't, " Ivera smilingly promised 
 as she went out. She walked down 
 to the depot. A familiar boyish figure 
 lounging along the platform caught her 
 eye. She went hastily up to him. 
 
 "Rob! I'm so glad to meet you. 
 I was wondering how I could send you 
 word that I am going back. I must 
 leave to-morrow." 
 
 He had turned, courteous but frown 
 ing. The cloud on his handsome, 
 youthful face vanished as she spoke. 
 
 "You are really going back, Ive?" 
 
 She drew a yellow envelope from 
 the pocket of her coat gave it to him. 
 He glanced through the inclosure. 
 "It does seem imperative," he com 
 mented. 
 
 "Oh, it is. Uncle James always 
 said there would be trouble about the 
 validity of those deeds when the case
 
 224 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 came up in the courts. I must be 
 there personally to testify. You don't 
 seem sorry to lose me, Rob?" 
 
 "Well, you know what came be 
 tween us. " 
 
 "Yes I know. And I was right." 
 
 He looked at her sharply. "What 
 do you mean by that?" 
 
 ' ' I mean that I was right in my wild 
 conjecture. There has been 'villany 
 somewhere Whose ?' I had the grave 
 opened, as you probably heard " She 
 observed how violently he started. 
 ' ' What ! You had not heard it ? What 
 was committed to that grave, Rob, in 
 deceit was returned in mockery." 
 
 "My God, Ive! I say, what a girl 
 you are ! Now that you have discovered 
 Mark is alive, you are satisfied. " 
 
 "Why should I be? Besides, how 
 do I know he is alive? I only know 
 he does not lie below the monument 
 which bears his name. The next thing 
 is to learn where he is alive or dead. 
 I asked Mr. Jardine to tell me. He 
 told me to ask you."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 225 
 
 Rob's delicate features flushed with 
 rage. 
 
 "Confound Jardine! I never saw 
 Mark Dudley after he left this town. 
 Jardine has seen him since. Let it 
 drop, Ive, like a good girl. It's a cursed 
 business from first to last. It is bet 
 ter you should know no more believe 
 me, it is better. You will be happier 
 all the days of your life if you will 
 let the matter rest." 
 
 She had never known him speak so 
 earnestly with so much emotion. 
 Their eyes met. 
 
 "I must let it rest, as you say, for 
 the present. I shall go East to-mor 
 row. But, of course, I will come back. 
 I have gone too far to surrender now." 
 
 He laughed a laugh of relief. 
 ' ' ' Sufficient for the day is the good 
 resolution thereof!' You will meet a 
 Prince Charming who will never let you 
 come back to this God-forgotten coun 
 try." 
 
 He opened the door of the waiting-
 
 226 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 room for her. She smiled and shook 
 her head as she passed in. 
 
 "Hold on!" Rob entreated. "You 
 don't care for Mark yet do you, Ive?" 
 
 She stood still. She felt oddly 
 thrilled. She was trembling. She 
 looked back at her brother in silence. 
 
 "That's right, dear!" he said, with 
 more heartiness and affection than he 
 usually showed. "He wasn't worthy 
 of you. It won't hurt him now to say 
 that, and it may do you some good to 
 remember it. I'll be in to-morrow. I'll 
 go as far as Lincoln with you." 
 
 There was quite a gathering at the 
 depot to see Miss Lyle off. A few 
 women she had come to know ap 
 peared, also half a dozen impression 
 able men. Evidently she had not been 
 blotted from the adaptable heart of 
 Mr. Mahasby by the charms of Miss 
 Melinda Carberry, for he was present 
 in a condition of more imbecile ami 
 ability than usual. Jennings, in his 
 finest London suit, wearing gloves and 
 necktie of a mournful heliotrope, es-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 227 
 
 thetically expressive of woe, stalked up 
 and down the farther part of the plat 
 form, aloof and inconsolable. A whistle 
 sounded. The train swerved around 
 a distant curve, and swept down the 
 rails that glittered blue in the sunshine. 
 Ivera Lyle, the center of a small, ex 
 clamatory group, gave one fleeting look 
 at the graveyard on the hill, and then 
 glanced back at the stout little man, 
 pacing solitary and forlorn. She broke 
 away from the others and went up to 
 him. She held out her hand. 
 
 "Good-bye, Mr. Jennings. Keep a 
 kind thought for me even if I don't 
 deserve it." 
 
 Her slim fingers lay in his thick, 
 tight hold. He looked at her with a 
 little blinking eyes that threatened to 
 brim over. 
 
 "I may write to you?" he begged. 
 
 ' ' If, " quizzically, ' ' you promise to be 
 reticent on one subject." 
 
 ' ' I will be as long as I can. " 
 
 Then the train rushed in. The hand-
 
 228 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 shaking was over. Rob helped his sister 
 on board. The cars rumbled out. 
 
 " Queer Jardine never showed up," 
 Rob ventured, as they drew near the 
 next station. "He looked downright 
 feazed when I told him in the Owl-King 
 last night that you were leaving to-day. 
 Hallo! Who is that, riding like the 
 devil?" 
 
 A man on horseback was galloping 
 down the main street of the little town 
 ahead. He reached the depot, sprang 
 from his horse, and flung the basket he 
 carried to the conductor 'as the train 
 pulled out. The conductor came into 
 the car. 
 
 "I guess," he volunteered with the 
 easy assurance of Western train men, 
 ' ' this is for your lady friend, Rob. " 
 
 Lyle opened the basket. It was rilled 
 with cut flowers, geraniums, myrtles, 
 carnations, double petunias. Nothing 
 rare or costly merely the poor best of 
 a prairie greenhouse at the season. 
 
 "What a fool that fellow is!" Rob 
 remarked, disgustedly. "He had to
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 229 
 
 ride thirty miles to-day to get you this 
 truck!" 
 
 ' ' If the basket is mine, be good enough 
 to pass it over. And I do object to 
 hearing flowers called truck." 
 
 The first act of Robert Lyle, when he 
 returned to Bubble, was to tell Prior 
 that he wished the partnership for 
 mally dissolved as soon as possible. To 
 this Prior cheerfully consented. He was 
 sick of the infernal country anyhow, he 
 said. 
 
 Two weeks passed. Lyle stayed 
 pretty steadily at the farm, and de 
 voted himself to his neglected work. 
 Jennings sometimes rode out in the 
 evening for a smoke and a chat. He 
 liked to sit in the room that bore traces 
 of her occupancy. He found a vicarious 
 pleasure in the companionship of her 
 brother. His depression was profound. 
 Apart from the absence of the girl he 
 worshiped, the dilemma which con 
 fronted him rendered him melancholy. 
 After many unsuccessful attempts to
 
 230 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 indite a letter to Ivera he went to Jar- 
 dine, and threw himself upon the mer 
 cies of that unsympathetic individual. 
 
 ' ' It isn't, " he confided to Jack, ' ' that 
 I can't spell, or write a good hand. It 
 isn't even that I fall down on grammar 
 sometimes. I'd make a stagger at that. 
 It is that I don't understand lots of 
 things she cares about, and even if I 
 did I could not write the way some 
 fellows do catchingly, cleverly, you 
 know. " 
 
 "I know," Jack said, grimly. He 
 had read some of Peter's epistolary at 
 tempts. 
 
 "Now, what I want to ask," said 
 Jennings, "is this: Will you write my 
 letters for me ? " 
 
 It was the first time Peter had ever 
 seen his partner excited. The latter 
 was sitting smoking, one leg flung over 
 the corner of the table. He took his 
 pipe from his mouth, and stared at 
 Jennings. 
 
 "Good God, no!" he exclaimed. 
 
 Peter's round, red face took on an
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 231 
 
 aggrieved expression. "Why won't 
 you ? " 
 
 ' ' Why, " crisply, ' 'should I ? " 
 
 i( Because you care nothing for the 
 girl, and I'm dead in love with her. 
 You didn't as much as show up at the 
 train to see her off. Even that brute, 
 Mahasby, was there. Because she's far 
 and away the smartest girl I ever met, 
 and she doesn't know I'm a fool. I 
 don't want her to find out the fact, if I 
 can help it. She is bound to make the 
 discovery if I write to her. I know I've 
 got nerve, as you Westerners say, to 
 ask it, but it means a lot to me. Be a 
 good fellow, Jardine! Write and let 
 me copy your letters!" 
 
 Jardine called to his memory the 
 timid little maiden in Sussex, and his 
 heart beat no faster. Then he thought 
 of the Eastern girl with the tawny hair, 
 and the dark blue eyes, and the quaint, 
 pretty name, and he said, brusquely, 
 ' ' You must be crazy, Jennings ! " 
 
 "She's nothing to you," Peter in 
 sisted, sturdily.
 
 232 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Jardine laughed as he emptied his 
 pipe, and refilled it with his long, 
 brown fingers. He admired the per 
 sistency of the fellow immensely. 
 
 ' ' Look here, " he said, as he drew a 
 match across his boot sole, ' ' if I were 
 mind, I only say if I were to write those 
 letters, I should have to know the con 
 tents of hers supposing she replied. 
 She might not like that." 
 
 ' ' I wish to heaven she cared !" groaned 
 Jennings. "She only consented to 
 allow me to write to her on condition 
 I wouldn't allude to one subject well, 
 you see, I'd been making a fool of my 
 self." 
 
 "Oh, I understand. In that case, 
 I'll do it," Jardine decided, briskly. 
 
 Jennings 'jumped up. His smile re 
 vealed his large white teeth. 
 
 "You're a brick, Jardine!" 
 
 "Oh, hang it, wait a while," Jack 
 counseled. "I may make a fizzle of 
 the deal." 
 
 But he did not make a fizzle of it. 
 The correspondence was tremendously
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 233 
 
 successful. Jennings was delighted with 
 the letters he mailed, and the replies 
 he received. Indeed Jardine was some 
 what enthusiastic himself. His personal 
 vanity stimulated him. He determined 
 Ivera Lyle should look for and appre 
 ciate his letters, even if they were 
 copied, signed, and sent by Peter Jen 
 nings.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "The rest is silence," 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 " TT isn't half a bad thing that folly 
 1 is sometimes its own reward," 
 Jack remarked once to his partner. 
 
 He had just finished a letter to Ivera, 
 and was well satisfied with the produc 
 tion. Peter stared at him, twisted the 
 big cornelian ring on his finger, smiled 
 a smile that was at once lenient and 
 uncomprehending, and the subject was 
 dropped. 
 
 Miss Lyle had found it necessary, in 
 the supervision of the estate she had 
 inherited, to go to New York, but her 
 replies to the letters from Nebraska 
 continued to come regularly. She 
 wrote much of plays, books, people, ar 
 tistic happenings. Her letters brought 
 much pleasure to Jack Jardine, some 
 embarrassment to Peter Jennings. 
 234
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 235 
 
 Still, there were times when the latter 
 mailed a particularly brilliant letter, 
 that he felt a personal pride in it. He 
 looked approvingly at the clerkly hand 
 on the envelope. It was not every 
 man who could send letters which such 
 a bright girl as Ivera Lyle would enjoy. 
 For Ivera had confessed she read his 
 missives with admiration. Thus, tem 
 porarily, he thrust Jardine out of sight. 
 But after a while his flattering imagina 
 tion failed to content him. It was not 
 the pleasantest thing in the world to 
 turn over Ivera's latest letter to Jardine, 
 and watch the smile of his partner as 
 he read it. And there was scant solace 
 in seeing Jack reply to it, his emphatic 
 pen speeding over the paper, his hazel 
 eyes lighting or glooming with the 
 mood of the matter he discussed. For 
 Jack wrote in a style that did credit to 
 Exeter College, and the vagrant, de 
 lightful -existence he had known. He 
 was quite as gay, cynical, adroit and 
 illogical as any woman could desire. 
 With the growing interest of Jardine
 
 236 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 in the correspondence the perplexity 
 of Jennings increased. He wondered 
 sometimes in futile bewilderment what 
 they were talking about. Their refer 
 ences puzzled him. Their ironies irri 
 tated him. Their subtleties confused 
 him. As for Jack, he began to count 
 and to live, one by one, the days that 
 must elapse before a reply could be 
 reasonably expected, and to betray a 
 warm welcome for Peter when he ap 
 peared with it. The sight of that deli 
 cate, defiant, distinctive chirography 
 set his pulses tingling. He knew, apart 
 from the personal association the letter 
 conveyed, what a feast it was sure to 
 prove. Not one girl in a thousand 
 could write like that! Such airy ear 
 nestness, such gentle humor, such piq 
 uant description, such gracious woman 
 liness, and the unconscious pathos with 
 which she wrote of homely things, 
 made him think of dew on burdock 
 leaves. 
 
 It was May. The terrible heat of 
 summer in the desert had begun. Daily
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 237 
 
 great white clouds of dust were blowing 
 from the south. Peter continued to re 
 ceive at intervals the faintly fragrant 
 missives that took five days to come 
 from their starting place on the Atlantic 
 coast, to turn them over to Jardine, 
 when he had read their contents, and 
 to copy and send their prompt replies. 
 In a vague, impotent way, Peter felt 
 that every letter he sent and every 
 reply he received tended to draw Ivera 
 Lyle and Jack Jardine closer together, 
 and to cast him into outer darkness. 
 One evening his dumb dissatisfaction 
 reached a climax. He was pulling up 
 his horse before the shop in which the 
 postoffijce was located, when Jack Jar- 
 dine came out. 
 
 ' ' There's no letter for you, " he said. 
 
 Jennings blustered out an oath. ' ' I'd 
 like to know who commissioned you to 
 ask for my mail?" he cried, angrily. 
 He stood his ground, although Jack 
 looked at him in that magnificent way 
 of his that always made Peter feel like 
 apologizing for the fact of his existence.
 
 238 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "I'll thank you," he supplemented, still 
 fuming, "not to meddle with my let 
 ters."' 
 
 ' ' I meant to have saved you the 
 trouble of calling," Jack replied, coldly. 
 "You may be sure that after this I 
 shall take no interest in your personal 
 affairs. " 
 
 They separated, each feeling rather 
 proud of himself. Elation was still up 
 permost with Peter when, on the fol 
 lowing day, he received a letter from 
 Ivera Lyle. He decided to answer it. 
 He would have her all to himself for 
 the first time. He wondered why he 
 had ever been so foolish as to make 
 that absurd request of Jardine. He set 
 bravely to work. He found the task 
 a difficult one. He attempted to imi 
 tate Jardine's style and failed. Then 
 the subjects she wrote on were sealed 
 mysteries to him. What did he 
 know about Dvorak's Slavonic dances ? 
 What did he understand about Tree's 
 portrayals? What significance had 
 Konchil's latest impressionistic aqua-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 239 
 
 relle for him ? He would ignore these 
 matters. He would say he was writ 
 ing hastily. He would regretfully 
 mention that their usual fascinating dis 
 cussion mnst be postponed. But he 
 could not say this every time. The 
 awful possibility occurred to him that 
 Jardine, missing the pleasure of reading 
 the letters, might start up a corre 
 spondence on his own account. The 
 similarity of thought would suggest, 
 perhaps reveal, the deception practiced. 
 Then Ivera would despise him Peter 
 Jennings! There was only one way to 
 win security to again request Jack's 
 aid. He felt there was no danger of 
 Jack betraying his confidence. He was 
 in a cold sweat when he ran out to sad 
 dle the mare. He found his partner 
 sitting in the rear of his shack, reading 
 and smoking. 
 
 "I was provoked yesterday," Jen 
 nings apologized. ' ' Let us go on about 
 those letters as we have been doing." 
 
 Jardine began to curse his partner 
 with much energy, but the day was
 
 240 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 dull, his novel was stupid, and the 
 square white envelope looked tempting. 
 He held out his hand for it. Jennings 
 deposited himself on the discarded seat 
 of an old wagon. He fidgeted, bit his 
 nails, started to speak, thought better 
 of it, and lapsed into a condition of en 
 vious scrutiny. Jardine's countenance 
 evinced as much interest in the pages 
 he was skimming as if they contained 
 the statistics of Transylvania. 
 
 ' ' Would you mind answering that 
 letter now?" Peter broke in. Jardine 
 returned the envelope with an air of 
 profound indifference. He was telling 
 himself how fortunate it was he had not 
 engaged himself to that girl in Sussex. 
 Then he thought of Mark Dudley, and 
 decided it didn't matter much after all. 
 He took a pencil out of his vest pocket 
 and began to scribble the date on the 
 fly-leaf of his book. 
 
 "The usual thing, I suppose," he 
 said, carelessly. 
 
 ' ' No, " Peter replied, quickly. ' ' Not 
 the usual thing at all." Then as Jar-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 241 
 
 dine pushed back his hat and looked at 
 him, he stammered: "I want you to 
 write and and ask her to marry me." 
 
 Jardine suddenly found the sun too 
 hot. He went into the house, and 
 Peter followed. 
 
 ' ' You asked her that, " Jack reminded 
 him, ''before she left." This, he re 
 flected, was a task he had not bargained 
 for. 
 
 "I know that," assented Peter, 
 breathing hard. ' ' We were not so well 
 acquainted then, though. Besides, she 
 gave me a certain amount of encourage 
 ment when she permitted me to write 
 at all, and in answering my letters." 
 
 A smile came around the corners of 
 Jardine's mouth. "But that permis 
 sion was given I understood you to 
 say on condition you would not again 
 declare your devotion. The restriction 
 holds good." 
 
 ' ' I think not. We know each other 
 so much better now. It seems so any 
 way, since we have been correspond- 
 ing." 
 
 16
 
 242 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Quite so!" agreed Jack, gravely. 
 But the next instant he had burst into 
 a sudden peal of laughter spontane 
 ous, ecstatic. 
 
 "Now, what the devil are you laugh 
 ing at?" Jennings demanded. 
 
 "Oh, nothing. Just a ridiculous 
 idea. So you wish me to write your 
 proposal? Shall it be very fervent?" 
 He was striving with all his might to 
 keep from another outbreak of mirth. 
 Jennings adjusted his massive cuff 
 links, and eyed his partner suspiciously. 
 He must get through with this matter 
 and he was at the mercy of Jardine. 
 
 "Write," he advised, with an adroit 
 ness upon which he flattered himself, 
 ' ' as you would write yourself to the girl 
 you desired to make your wife." 
 
 Jardine nodded. He no longer ex 
 perienced an inclination to laugh. He 
 sat down and wrote as he had never 
 written before as he would never write 
 again. A seriousness overshadowed 
 Peter's flamboyant countenance as he 
 read the screed over. ' ' One would
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 243 
 
 think, " he hazarded slowly, ' ' that you 
 meant all this. " 
 
 1 ' You asked me to write as I would 
 write to the girl I loved well enough to 
 marry, and I have done so." 
 
 "Thanks, awfully, dear boy. This 
 ought to fetch her." 
 
 Jardine pulled himself up, and Jen 
 nings dropped into his seat beside the 
 table on which lay the writing materials. 
 
 "Where are you going?" he asked, 
 for Jardine was dragging on his boots. 
 
 ' ' I'm going to ride over to Auger's. 
 I must see about that carload we are to 
 ship to St. Joe, Tuesday." He looked 
 white and tired. 
 
 "Are you ill? You look queer, 
 somehow." 
 
 "Thanks I'm all right. I believe 
 it's going to rain." 
 
 It did rain that evening. More than 
 that, it blew. It also thundered and 
 lightened, by way of diversion. After 
 the late intense heat, the wind, rushing 
 down from the Dakotas, was penetrat 
 ingly cold. An acclimated Nebraskan
 
 244 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 accepts philosophically such sudden 
 changes of weather and makes shift to 
 avoid their most disagreeable features. 
 But Jennings, plodding into town to 
 mail the letter he had laboriously copied, 
 did not dream of seeking shelter when 
 the storm broke. He battled on, safely 
 consigned his letter, then hired a livery 
 rig, and drove back to his shack. He 
 was wet to the skin, and chilled from 
 head to feet. All night he lay with 
 burning brow, icy hands, and a strange, 
 spasmodic pain in his side. His man 
 hurried for Jardine at dawn. Jardine 
 sent immediately to the county seat 
 for a physician, and then hastened to 
 his partner. 
 
 1 ' Looks like pneumonia, " the doctor 
 said, when he came. It was pneumo 
 nia. Jardine did all for Peter that one 
 man could do for another. He devoted 
 himself to him. He cabled his relatives. 
 He procured the best nurse to be had. 
 But during the week that followed the 
 sick man burned and writhed in fever, 
 babbled deliriously, strove to cough,
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 245 
 
 and had intervals of sanity that were 
 more painful to those about him than 
 were his periods of unconsciousness. It 
 was during one of these intervals that 
 the mail was handed to Jardine. 
 
 ' ' Look, " Jennings whispered. ' ' See 
 if there is a reply from her. " Jardine 
 started. He had never supposed that 
 Jennings copied and mailed the letter 
 the day it was written the evening of 
 the stortn. He must have done so to 
 expect a reply now. 
 
 "There !" cried Peter. " I see it ! I 
 can get the perfume of violets. Open 
 it, " he begged. 
 
 But Jardine hesitated, the unopened 
 envelope extended. "Open it! Read 
 it!" Jennings insisted. "You have 
 known the rest. You may as well know 
 this. What is her answer? What does 
 she say?" 
 
 Jardine tore off the envelope, skimmed 
 the contents. Then, very slowly, he 
 read aloud: 
 
 Dear Mr. Jennings-. Your letter, which 
 honors me, I have just received. I ,"
 
 246 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 There was a silence. ' 'Why, " Peter 
 murmured, impatiently, ' ' are you wait- 
 ing?" 
 
 "When you spoke to me before I left Ne 
 braska, I could not answer as you wished. 
 Now " 
 
 There was another period of hesita 
 tion. 
 
 "Now I find my feelings toward you have 
 undergone a change. I look forward with 
 happy anticipation to meeting you again. I 
 shall go out to my brother's in the Fall. I 
 shall say nothing more definite now. So 
 
 until we meet 
 
 Believe me, your friend, 
 
 IVERA LYLE. 
 
 The sick man's face was transfigured. 
 
 "How happy lam!" he cried. "How 
 happy! And I owe it all to you, dear 
 boy all to you!" 
 
 These were the last intelligible words 
 he ever spoke. When the dawn crept 
 in like a thief Peter Jennings was dead.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "Why, how now ? Ho! from whence ariseth this?" 
 
 Othello. 
 
 THEY buried the young Englishman 
 on the Kansas hill. Jardine sent 
 copies of the county papers containing 
 mention of his death to Miss Lyle, and 
 to his parents. He forwarded the latter, 
 also a draft that very generously covered 
 Peter's interest in the ranch, and wrote 
 them a long, kindly, comforting letter. 
 He burned the private papers of his 
 friend in accordance with the preference 
 of his people. He burned, too, the last 
 letter Ivera Lyle had written Jennings, 
 but not before feeling traitorous, but 
 justified he had re-read it. 
 
 Dear Mr. Jennings: Your letter, which 
 honors me, I have just received. I cannot tell 
 you how strangely it affects me. When you 
 spoke to me before I left Nebraska, I could 
 not answer as you wished nor can I now. 
 247
 
 248 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 But our correspondence has been so full of 
 surprise and pleasure I find my feelings to 
 ward you have undergone a change. Your 
 letters have made me happily anticipate meet 
 ing you again. I shall go out to my brother's 
 in the Fall, when I hope our very cordial intel 
 lectual sympathy may merge into personal 
 friendship. Believe me, if my heart were 
 mine to give your latest letter would have 
 won it. Your friend, IVERA LYLE. 
 
 There was a terrible drouth that year. 
 Before June was gone the corn was 
 doomed. Day after day the horrible 
 heat prevailed increased. July came 
 in with skies of brass, fierce, scorching 
 winds blowing up from the south, winds 
 that drove fine, white, stinging dust in 
 billows before them ; winds that even at 
 night did not cease, but shrieked and 
 whined, and mockingly puffed its hot 
 breath in the faces of gasping humanity. 
 Men looked out with haggard eyes over 
 the land they had plowed and planted 
 and saw how, with each day, the green 
 ranks were becoming more dwarfed and 
 yellow. The creek was dry. Cattle 
 died along its banks. The leaves of
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 249 
 
 the oaks and cottonwoods no longer 
 rustled they rattled. Women on the 
 farms milked, and scrubbed, and 
 churned, and cooked, and economized. 
 Men hung around the pool room and 
 the saloon, and blasphemed, and drank 
 more than was good for them, and 
 plodded back to their homes in the yel 
 low evening glare, morose and irritable. 
 Desperation lived in many hearts. July 
 was almost merged in August, and still 
 no merciful rain had fallen. Disease 
 became epidemic. Fresh meat could 
 not be procured. Ice was an unknown 
 luxury. The dry and dewless nights 
 brought no relief. Eldridge, driving 
 over the prairies in his ramshackle 
 buggy, glancing from parched sod to 
 pitiless sky, comprehending all the hor 
 ror of the heat, seeing little children as 
 surely being done to death by swarms 
 of flies as were ever honey-smeared, 
 crucified Chinese malefactors, decided 
 being fortified by frequent adminis 
 trations of morphine that there was no 
 God in heaven, no compassion nor su-
 
 250 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 preme intelligence anywhere. He was 
 driving up from Kansas one brazen, 
 blowing afternoon, after an all-night 
 siege beside a sick bed. As he passed, 
 he glanced in at the lonely little grave 
 yard on the hill. He could no more 
 refrain from doing so, when he came 
 upon it, than Eugene Aram could leave 
 unvisited the body of his victim. Re 
 gardless of the fact that a precipitous 
 descent lay ahead, he lashed his horse. 
 The animal dashed downward, the rick 
 ety buggy lying almost across his 
 haunches. As Eldridge swung around 
 a curve he saw that there was a vehicle 
 ahead of him. Still farther down a 
 bridge spanned the dry bed of the creek. 
 The bridge was narrow, and was un 
 protected at the sides. 
 
 4 'Hi, there!" Eldridge yelled to the 
 man ahead. "Turn out there! I 
 can't." 
 
 But the foremost buggy had already 
 rolled on the bridge when the doctor's 
 uncontrollable horse bore down upon it. 
 There was a crash a crackling of oaths.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 251 
 
 The driver ahead leaped up, whipped 
 his animal. It sprang forward none 
 too soon. For an instant both buggies 
 had jolted and swayed on the narrow 
 bridge. Only the quick action of the 
 first driver had prevented a double dis 
 aster. But once across he bounded 
 from the buggy, and, choking with rage, 
 confronted the man who had so nearly 
 run him down. 
 
 ' ' Are you crazy ?" he yelled, grabbing 
 the rein of the second horse near the 
 bit. ' ' You're crazy or oh, it's you, is 
 it?" as he recognized Eldridge. "I 
 might have known only a drugged fool 
 would have done such a rotten trick. 
 We'd both have 'been over the edge in 
 another second." 
 
 "I tried to stop the mare, but I 
 couldn't turn her out, " growled Eldridge. 
 "Wait a minute, Lyle. I've been 
 wanting to see you. " He got out of his 
 rig. The panting horses stood still. 
 "I wish," Eldridge went on, fumbling 
 in his pocket, ' ' if you know where Prior 
 is, you'd send him this roll. He gave
 
 252 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 it to me before he left. I've been think 
 ing it over, and I can't keep it. I'm 
 not entitled to any extra money." 
 
 Robert Lyle looked at him blankly. 
 "I don't know what you're talking 
 about," he said. 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes, you do. I admit I wasn't 
 quite myself when I made out that cer 
 tificate, but I believed what you boys 
 told me. I thought it was all right." 
 
 Lyle knew to what he was referring 
 then. "Well, wasn't it all right?" he 
 questioned, savagely. The sun blazed 
 down on them. The white, powdery 
 dust whirled all around them in fluctu 
 ant waves and vanishing spirals. 
 
 ' ' I don't know, " Eldridge answered, 
 doubtfully. "I wish to God I did! 
 When Prior handed me this money, 
 and I objected to taking it, he said in 
 that sneering, little impudent way of 
 his: 'When rich knaves have need of 
 poor ones, poor ones may make what 
 price they will!' Then I heard that 
 your sister considered there was some 
 thing wrong in the manner of his death.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 253 
 
 I don't know what she discovered, 
 but 1 
 
 "I know. She discovered that the 
 man for whom you issued a certificate 
 of death is no more dead than I am!" 
 
 " Not dead ! " shrieked Eldridge. ' ' I 
 saw him dead. He was dead when 
 you or Prior one of you brought me 
 down to the office that night. I didn't 
 make a thorough examination, I know. 
 But I believed what I was told about 
 his symptoms and so on. I saw that 
 he was dead . I gave you boys the cer 
 tificate you asked for. And now you 
 tell me he isn't buried on that hill back 
 there?" 
 
 "I mean to tell you he isn't buried 
 anywhere. " 
 
 ' ' I've always thought there was some 
 deviltry afloat that night, but I could 
 never put my finger on the nature of it. 
 I thought afterward that maybe you 
 boys had some motive for putting him 
 out of the way." 
 . "Oh, he's out of the way all right!" 
 
 "What do you mean by that?"
 
 254 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 The tattered corn at either side of 
 the road rattled in a mighty surge of 
 hot wind, as the men stood in the white 
 dust and looked hard at each other. 
 It was like breathing flame to breathe 
 the air that enveloped them. The ex 
 citing talk had gone to their heads like 
 liquor. Both were sick and dizzy. 
 
 1 ' See here, " Rob advised, slowly and 
 insolently. "You stick to your hypo 
 dermic syringe, will you, and leave 
 other people's affairs alone?" 
 
 The physician's pale, flabby face was 
 twitching. "I'm not denying I've got 
 pretty low down," he said, in a voice 
 that quivered with self-scorn. ' ' I pay 
 a bitter penalty, God knows! But I 
 won't willingly be accessory to a crime. 
 What did you do with that young fel 
 low?" 
 
 Eldridge's failure to resent his cruel 
 taunt, the despairing voice in which he 
 had spoken, a sense of his own unman- 
 liness, overwhelmed Rob with sudden 
 shame and pity. Impulsively he thrust 
 his hand into his hip pocket. Before
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 255 
 
 he could withdraw it Eldridge had 
 jerked out a revolver and shot him. 
 
 Lyle stood erect a moment, then 
 toppled forward in the velvety dust. 
 The letter he had pulled from his pocket, 
 in falling dropped from his nerveless 
 hand. His horse, frightened by the 
 report of the revolver, was tearing to 
 ward town, the light vehicle rocking 
 after it. Eldridge stood looking stu 
 pidly down on his victim. A letter! 
 Was that what he reached for when he 
 put his hand back ? The doctor picked 
 it up read it. It contained an answer 
 to the question he had just asked Lyle 
 concerning the fate of Mark Dudley. 
 
 Eldridge looked wildly around. Men 
 were running from the fields from the 
 town. He slipped the letter back in 
 Rob's pocket. People came hurrying 
 up. There was an excited outcry a 
 hurricane of questions. Eldridge had 
 turned Rob over. He was kneeling 
 beside him, his ringer on the wrist of 
 the prostrate man. 
 
 "He isn't dead!" Eldridge cried.
 
 256 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Thank God for that. Get him out 
 of the sun quick!" 
 
 "You shot him!" several voices 
 shouted. 
 
 "Yes, I shot him. We had some 
 words, I thought he was going to pull 
 a gun. I acted, as I supposed, in self- 
 defense. " 
 
 A litter was hastily prepared. The 
 marshal, who had been bending over 
 Rob, stood up, addressed Eldridge. 
 
 "Lyle never carried a gun. He 
 hasn't one now." 
 
 "I found that out too late. I'll go 
 with you, Peters. Bill Hicks, you look 
 after my horse, like a good fellow. 
 What in thunder are you all staring 
 about? Why don't some of you wire 
 for a physician?" A brief silence fol 
 lowed the indignant outbreak. Then 
 a thin voice yelped maliciously: "Why 
 don't you tend to him yourself?" 
 
 "By God, I will if you'll let me!" 
 Eldridge looked toward the marshal. 
 
 "Go ahead!" said that official. The 
 next moment the doctor was down in
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 257 
 
 the dust beside the wounded man, nerv 
 ously unbuttoning the buttons of his 
 coat and vest. He pulled up the shirt, 
 found the bullet hole. ' ' Hand me my 
 bag!" he called. Someone took it out 
 of his buggy and passed it to him. He 
 worked rapidly, deftly. He probed, 
 applied saturated lint, bandaged. 
 ' 'There ! I don't think he'll die. That 
 will depend chiefly on the care he gets. 
 Better take him out on the farm, though. 
 That hotel isn't fit for a hog to live or 
 die, in. Wait you, Dan Joyce!" He 
 had taken a pad from his pocket, and 
 was scribbling on it directions and pre 
 scriptions. ' ' See about these, and get 
 Doc Hayes down from the county seat 
 as soon as you can. Until he comes 
 follow the directions I've written, and 
 give him the medicines. Now, Peters, 
 I'll go with you!" He and the mar 
 shal walked off together the rest fol 
 lowing. Jardine met them. 
 
 "We'll take him out to my place, 
 boys, " he said. ' ' I'll take care of him, 
 and I can do it more conveniently there. 
 17
 
 258 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 I've a rig ready at the livery. Hicks, 
 you go out to Rob's and help his man 
 look after the stock. I'll be responsi 
 ble." 
 
 He stopped a minute at the depot to 
 telegraph to Ivera Lyle: 
 
 "Rob seriously, but not fatally, injured. 
 Will keep you informed of his condition." 
 " JOHN TREVOR JARDINE." 
 
 He had purposely refrained from in 
 ferring that she should come, but he 
 watched every train from the East after 
 it was reasonable to suppose she might 
 arrive. But when the train came in on 
 the evening of the tenth day, and she 
 was not on board, he gave up hope, and 
 went back to the shack feeling miser 
 ably depressed. To be sure she had 
 wired for particulars, and he had re 
 plied, and had written her a daily bulle 
 tin afterward. He had tried hard to 
 persuade himself that he was not hun 
 grily hoping she would come. Rob 
 looked up at him when he entered. 
 
 " No letter from Ive?"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 259 
 
 "No letter." 
 
 ' ' It's several days since I had one. 
 I've had a sneaking fancy she might 
 come out. But I guess she won't. I 
 was devilish mean to her when she was 
 here. Is there any chance of rain?" 
 
 Jardine gave a short laugh. "You 
 optimistic idiot. Does it ever rain in 
 Nebraska?" 
 
 Rob moved restlessly. The day had 
 been long and hot. He was weary of 
 pain and of enforced repose. ' ' I wish, " 
 he said, his voice petulant and wistful 
 as a child's, ' ' I wish Ivera would come !" 
 A shadow fell across the bare floor. 
 There was a faint fragrance in the room. 
 Jardine sprang up, his pulses throbbing 
 madly. A slender woman was stoop 
 ing over Rob. 
 
 ' ' Ivera has come, dear, " she said.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 "Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical." 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 IT was August. There had been a few 
 futile rains. The coming of these 
 had brought a glimmer of hope for the 
 late corn their lack of fulfillment a 
 fresh despair. A bit of a cloud would 
 come up. Men and women held their 
 breath while they watched it. Then 
 there was a damp drift. The soil was 
 moistened. A few hours later the dust 
 was whirling again, and the sound of 
 the corn, as the wind swept it, was 
 harsher than before. 
 
 ' ' I had given you up when you came, " 
 Jack said to Ivera the day she ar 
 rived. 
 
 "You were expecting me, then?" 
 ' ' Well, not exactly, but I hung around 
 the trains from the East. If you had 
 260
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 261 
 
 not come via the Santa Fe and driven 
 over, I should surely have met you." 
 
 She had been almost two weeks at 
 Jardine's ranch. He had betaken him 
 self to the shack Jennings had occupied. 
 Several of Ivera's former acquaintances 
 had called. One of these visitors was 
 Mollie. She was radiant in the most 
 tawdry finery blue silk gown, yellow 
 kid gloves, and a hat adorned with a 
 profusion of cotton lace rosettes and 
 purple pink roses. 
 
 ' ' I like to come work for you here, " 
 said Mollie. 
 
 Miss Lyle recollected a great many 
 things all at once. ' ' Oh, no not here. 
 You are very fine, Mollie." 
 
 Mollie cast a complacent eye upon 
 her gown. 
 
 ' ' Yes, " she agreed, in a satisfied tone. 
 "Henry he buy me all." 
 
 1 ' Henry ? What is his other name ? " 
 
 "I never hear any other name," 
 Mollie replied, indifferently. "Folks 
 call him Dutch Henry." 
 
 ' ' Well, what is Dutch Henry to you ?"
 
 262 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "Him's my husband," said Mollie. 
 
 "Mollie, you are married?" 
 
 Mollie nodded, "Most a month. Him 
 good section hand. Him got money 
 saved up. Him give me all him got, so 
 I marry him. I buy lots of clothes. I 
 trade for bracelet see bracelet!" She 
 held out her arm. The thick, red wrist 
 was encircled by a heavy band of rolled 
 gold. 
 "Where did you get that, Mollie?" 
 
 A gratified smile passed over Mollie's 
 rosy face. "Made good trade for it. 
 Traded to Mary Cheropsky." 
 
 "What did you trade for it?" 
 
 ' ' Plate an' handles off baby coffin, " 
 returned the bride of Dutch Henry, 
 cheerfully. It was a scorching noontide. 
 The little room in which they sat was 
 darkened. In the dim light, Mollie, 
 sumptuously proportioned and brightly 
 gowned, was a striking figure. 
 
 ' ' I should not think you would like a 
 stranger to have those, " Miss Lyle said. 
 "You were anxious to get them, I re 
 member, to remind you of your baby."
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 263 
 
 Mollie twisted the gaudy ornament 
 on her wrist. ' ' I know, but I got tired 
 them. Him never well baby. Dutch 
 Henry say better little Mark die." 
 
 Ivera Lyle caught her breath. 
 
 ' ' Mark ! Was that the baby's name ? 
 Why why " She choked up and 
 could utter no further word. 
 
 "Him called after him father," said 
 Mollie. 
 
 Ivera trembled to her feet. A cry 
 broke faintly from her lips. ' ' But you 
 said" 
 
 Mollie laughed pleasantly. "I did 
 say that morning when I leave, I not 
 want him to love you. It make me mad, 
 then. Now, I not care. I got Henry. 
 You think I mean Mr. Jardine. I say 
 yes, for I not want you know about Mark 
 Dudley. Mr. Jardine give me money 
 never let you know about him. He say 
 it make you feel bad to know. Do you 
 feel bad?" 
 
 "Go," Ivera besought her in a low 
 voice. "Go, Mollie." 
 
 Jack Jardine, stepping upon the porch,
 
 264 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 heard the entreaty. His glance went 
 swiftly from one woman to the other. 
 Mollie smiled broadly at him in all the 
 arrogance of her ignorance. 
 
 ' 'I work here cheap, " she said, ' ' while 
 Henry off on new road, but Miss Lyle 
 her not want -me." 
 
 Jardine motioned to the door. 
 
 With a toss of her berosed head and a 
 swish of her skirts Mollie disappeared. 
 Ivera sank down on a chair. Jardine 
 went up to her. 
 
 "Was she annoying you?" he asked. 
 
 She strove to smile indifferently up 
 at him, but in the same minute she had 
 turned her head away, and was crying 
 softly. His face reddened through all 
 its tan as he looked down on her. He 
 could see the ruffled tawny hair, the 
 edge of a pink ear, the slender waist. 
 
 "Don't, he implored, "let anything 
 that creature could say grieve you." 
 
 "You don't know how I have mis 
 judged you." 
 
 ' ' Never mind about that. " 
 
 "Ah, but I must," she murmured,
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 265 
 
 with quivering lips. ' ' You can't under 
 stand what what I thought." 
 
 "Perhaps I can. If you insist on 
 deeming yourself a sinner, here is your 
 penance and absolution. " 
 
 He bent and his lips lightly touched 
 her soft hair. Then he was out of the 
 house, on horseback, and riding rapidly 
 away. 
 
 "You must make haste and get 
 strong," Ivera said to Rob, as she sat 
 beside him that night. "We can't 
 stay here longer. We have crowded 
 Mr. Jardine out of his own house. I 
 understand you have sold out of the 
 grain business. You shall make ar 
 rangements to leave the farm in the 
 hands of some persons you can trust. 
 You and I will go back to Illinois. The 
 lake breezes will soon make you my 
 own strong boy again. I came as soon 
 as I could. I was dreadfully afraid you 
 were going to die, Rob." 
 
 ' ' I came pretty close to it, dear. I've 
 had time enough to think while I have 
 been lying here, and I'm not a pray-
 
 266 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 ing fellow, you know, but I do believe 
 in God Almighty I promised Him if I 
 recovered I'd make a clean breast about 
 Mark. Will you listen now?" 
 
 For the first time she turned coward. 
 "In a little while," she said. She 
 walked to the door of the shack, and 
 out into the white, hot night. The wind 
 had gone down. The plains stretched 
 away, boundless and mysterious. The 
 sky, frigated with whitish clouds, 
 loomed low and light. Between these 
 crept the silence, the awful, oppressive, 
 overwheming silence of the prairies. It 
 seemed to close around the girl stand 
 ing there in gigantic coils that crushed 
 out individuality almost extinguished 
 identity. An impulse to scream as if 
 in a nightmare frenzy anything to 
 break the spell, came to her. She said 
 something on the subject to Rob when 
 she went back to the little lighted room. 
 
 "Yes," he declared, "the silence is 
 damnable. I don't feel such things as 
 acutely as you do, but it has hurt me 
 many a time. When I was in New
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 267 
 
 Orleans I saw a mob drag along Tchou- 
 pitoulas street a nigger whom they 
 were going to lynch. The screeching 
 of the victim and the hooting of the 
 rabble were the most atrocious sounds 
 I ever heard. I put my hands over my 
 ears to keep them out. Since I've 
 lived on the plains, I find there is one 
 thing worse than any sound, and that 
 is silence." 
 
 ' ' We ought to rejoice in the sacred- 
 ness of this desolate world. We ought 
 to find charm in its aloofness its se 
 renity. " 
 
 "Well, we don't. No one who lives 
 their lives out here can do anything of 
 the sort. The only people who associ 
 ate solitude, romance and all that sort of 
 thing with the plains are those who write 
 about them without having had any per 
 sonal experience. You have seen and 
 studied Western women those of the 
 small towns and farms, I mean. The 
 young women are sometimes pretty, 
 generally vulgar, always foolish. The 
 middle-aged women are the old women
 
 268 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 a set of drab-colored, toothless, petty- 
 minded old crones. 
 
 "I know that sounds hard, but it 
 is true. There are no old people. 
 There are many prematurely old. I 
 took Mollie's mother to be seventy, 
 at least, and Mollie told me she was 
 younger than that handsome brigand, 
 her husband, and had a baby about the 
 age of Mollie's own." 
 
 ' ' Bohemian women age rapidly. " 
 
 "All women age rapidly out here. 
 There is the unceasing work, the wind, 
 the heat, the dust storms. There is 
 absolutely no mental activity." 
 
 "Dear child, what would they do 
 with mental activity?" 
 
 "Don't laugh, Rob. They have 
 time to talk together, but the conversa 
 tion, God save the mark! is always of 
 the short comings of their acquaint 
 ances, or patchwork, or carpet rags. 
 One wpman said to me: 'I pieced 
 four quilts last winter. When I got 
 them done I patched another with the 
 pieces that was left after piecin' the
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 269 
 
 others. There was two hundred blocks 
 in this, an' every block had fifty pieces 
 in it, an' they wasn't no block bigger'n 
 a cent.' Think of that. " 
 
 "I'd rather not!" laughed Rob. 
 
 They were silent. Both knew they 
 had been talking against time. Ivera 
 looked around the little whitewashed 
 room, in one corner of which a glass 
 lamp burned, and then back to the bed 
 with its gay covering of a striped Eng 
 lish blanket, the vividness of which ac 
 centuated the pallor of the face upon 
 the pillow. Their eyes met. 
 
 1 ' Dear, " she said, ' ' tell me now. " 
 
 He told her, his nervous fingers 
 touching the airy folds of her summer 
 gown that had drifted within his reach. 
 Ten fifteen twenty minutes. It was 
 told. She had not stirred nor spoken. 
 
 ' ' The letter that I was about to show 
 to Eldridge when he misconstrued the 
 motion I made, is in the pocket of my 
 coat over there. It is the last letter 
 Jardine received from the physician." 
 
 She stood up, found the letter read
 
 270 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 it. She came back and sat down at 
 the bedside. She was white as her 
 gown. Rob's eyes, shrinking and be 
 seeching, were fastened on her face. 
 
 "I would never have had anything 
 to do with it, Ive," he asserted, pite- 
 ously, "if I'd supposed there was any 
 real danger. I wonder if you can ever 
 forgive me?" 
 
 "You know I love you." Then her 
 eyes brimmed over. 
 
 "But," there was a catch in his 
 voice "I don't deserve your love, 
 dear." 
 
 "If that is really so, you need it all 
 the more."
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 "I pray thee, let us go and find him out." 
 
 The Merchant of Venice. 
 
 '"PHEY were sitting out on the porch 
 1 Rob, pale and handsome in his in 
 teresting role of convalescent, Ivera, with 
 all her bright hair unbound over a gown 
 that was blue and misty. She held a 
 little morocco covered book. The lines 
 she read would have been almost unin 
 telligible when Rob claimed the diary. 
 They were lucid and full of interest now: 
 
 July 10. " Hang the luck! Must buy 
 M. C. off some way if I am to bring I. here. 
 
 July 20. Great scheme of Prior's. Sounds 
 a bit risky, though. 
 
 August 3. Seems safe enough. Have in 
 sured in their favor Prior's, rather. 
 
 August 6. That damned saint of a Jardine 
 suspects something. I'm rattled. I'll have 
 to let old rye alone a while, I guess. 
 
 August 14. Jardine caught on, confound 
 271
 
 272 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 him. Forced to postpone plan. A desperate 
 game, but the tests worked all right. 
 
 August 27. Played it slick on old Eldridge. 
 Sore throat. Cardiac suffering general ill 
 ness. Must burn this book before 
 
 August 30. Prior says now that that 
 preaching Jardine has gone East is the time 
 to risk it. So one of these nights Great 
 Scott! if Prior should prove to be a fool or a 
 scoundrel!" 
 
 "Up?" cried a familiar voice. 
 "That's good." 
 
 Jardine dropped off his horse, and 
 lounged toward the doorway. 
 
 Ivera retreated at sight of him. 
 
 "Jack I've told her!" 
 
 Jardine's face took on a certain ri 
 gidity, and his lips shut firm and tight. 
 Then he asked : ' ' How did she bear 
 it?" But at the same instant he lifted 
 his hand. "Don't tell me! I am sure 
 she endured as she ventured ' Like a 
 gallant lady. "' 
 
 Rob nodded, looking out with wet 
 eyes across the withered world. 
 
 ' ' She will not be satisfied until she 
 has seen him, " he said.
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 273 
 
 "I can understand how she feels 
 about that. I will take her whenever 
 you may be left alone." 
 
 ' ' Never mind me. Saunders can at 
 tend to me. Take her, and get the 
 final torture over. Why can't you go 
 to-morrow?" 
 
 So it was agreed they should leave 
 the following morning. "It will be a 
 long drive, " Jardine had said, ' ' twenty- 
 four miles from here to the town in 
 Kansas where we take the train." 
 
 They drove across the prairies in the 
 exultance of the sunrise. "We must 
 pass through Bubble," Jardine said to 
 Ivera. ' ' Won't you stop a few minutes 
 to see Mrs. Me?" 
 
 "It is so early!" 
 
 "Not for her." 
 
 They found the old lady sitting on 
 her back steps. Involuntary deference 
 to conventionality induced her to tuck 
 her bare feet under her calico wrapper 
 when Ivera appeared. The gown was 
 open at the neck, and the strong, brown, 
 withered old throat showed in the gap. 
 
 18
 
 274 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 "MorninT she said, affably. "I 
 heerd you was out here again, an' I 
 kep' a-wonderin' ef you'd come see me. 
 I'd have gone to see you ef them legs 
 of mine 'ud only let me. Rob Lyle's 
 gittin' better, ain't he ? I never see such 
 a man fur gettin' better. They can't do 
 a thing to Eldridge more's the pity!" 
 
 ' ' I hope Mr. McLelland is well. " 
 
 ' ' Oh, he's well enough, but he's wor 
 rited. Business is slack, though we did 
 think it would pick up after the water 
 got low in the wells. Pa don't git his 
 coffings from St. Joe no more. " 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "No, the glass he used to git from 
 there was that streaky he hadn't the 
 stability to look a deceased in the face 
 through it. It took a whole nickel's 
 worth of alcohol to clean one glass in 
 them coffings. 'Pa,' I says to him, 
 'don't you let nobody become conta 
 gious of the fact that you use alcohol 
 for that purpose. S'posin', ' I says, ' a 
 dead prohibitionist should come to you 
 foracoffing?'"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 275 
 
 ' ' That would be embarrassing. But 
 Mr. McLelland is so clever, I am sure 
 he would find a way out of even such a 
 dilemma as that." 
 
 She laughed a complacent and unc 
 tuous laugh, that ended in a gurgle 
 deep down in her capacious bosom. 
 "Yes, there ain't nothin' stupid about 
 Pa or me. Pa says I'm a heap smart- 
 er'n him, but then I don't never take 
 stock in a man praisin' his wife 'spe 
 cially when it's fur bein' economical. 
 The praise only means that he'll think 
 more of her ef she gits even economicler. 
 I done a heap fur Pa. I ain't spent a 
 dime fur twenty year I didn't look at 
 twice. I saved fur him, an' raised chick- 
 ings an' turkeys, an' ain't had but two 
 wool dresses to my back in all that 
 time -"never a silk one in the hull thirty 
 year, an' only onct a pair of kid gloves. " 
 
 She stopped, looking out dreamily 
 over the yellow roofs rising around. 
 
 "Mr. McLelland must be proud of 
 you, " Ivera ventured. 
 
 "Oh, he air. Pa 'lows he wouldn't
 
 276 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 be fixed like he is ef it wasn't fur me. 
 He says he couldn't have bought out 
 the undertakin' of Mahasby fur ten year 
 to come, ef it warn't fur the way I rus 
 tled and saved. His first wife she was 
 only a bit of a girl friv'lous, I jedge, 
 as they make 'em. She allus had pretty 
 clothes, an' they say she could sing 
 sweeter'n any bird. But she couldn't 
 cook none to speak on, an' she never 
 saved a carpet rag, or pieced a quilt. 
 She was jest fearful friv'lous Annie 
 was. " 
 
 Ivera scarcely knew what was ex 
 pected of her. She was silent. 
 
 1 ' Yes, " the old lady proceeded, ' ' Pa 
 sets a heap by me. But somehow, 
 when he talks nights some folks does 
 you know I ain't ever heerd him pro 
 pitiate my name." 
 
 "Yes?" very gently. 
 
 The old eyes were blinking fast. 
 
 "It's allus her'n. Seems like he 
 keeps a-dreamin' of that little thing that 
 was berrid with her baby when she 
 wasn't but nineteen come her next birth-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 277 
 
 day. 'Tain't reel satisfactory after 
 you've been layin' down by the side of 
 a man fur mor'n thirty year to have 
 him stir an' call you Annie when your 
 given name's Maria." 
 
 Jardine pointed out with his whip 
 the scattered dwellings as they drove 
 south in Kansas. 
 
 ' ' Those bake ovens are bad enough 
 for any woman to spend her days in, " 
 he said, ' ' but for some women they are 
 worse than for others. I have known 
 instances where women have come out 
 here who were no more fitted to endure 
 the isolation, the intellectual poverty, 
 the grinding routine of ignoble tasks, 
 than a blooded racer is fitted for the 
 plowshare. And yet, in a way, such 
 a woman as one of these makes the 
 most magnificent success of her life. 
 Hardy says in one of his earlier novels 
 that when a strong woman deliberately 
 throws away her strength she is weaker 
 than a woman who has never had any 
 strength to throw away. I don't know 
 if I make myself understood when I
 
 278 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 speak of such a woman as being lofty 
 enough to submit, strong enough to sur 
 render, passionate enough to be silent." 
 
 "I understand." 
 
 ' ' I am sure you do. It was all excel 
 lent while the first excitement the first 
 enthusiasm lasted. But it seemed after 
 a while as if something gave way men 
 tally or physically. No one who has not 
 given up the thing they love sublimely 
 art, music, literature, sympathy, con 
 genial companionship, as the case may 
 be can offer any reason for the break 
 down. Therefore they say ' he pulled 
 himself up 'why daub ourselves by 
 seeking roots for nettles ?' " 
 
 Driving along the high, level land in 
 Northern Kansas they fell to talking of 
 Mark Dudley. 
 
 "I suspected the boys were up to 
 some scheme, but how dangerous I did 
 not know until, coming in unexpectedly 
 one night, I found Mark rigid appar 
 ently lifeless. Prior and Rob laughed 
 at me, and insisted he would be all right 
 in a few hours. Soon after he was as
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 279 
 
 well as ever. I had known that Dudley 
 had insured his life for Prior, who was 
 to divide with Rob. The reason for 
 that singular transaction was then made 
 clear to me. Prior knew only enough 
 of chemistry to make it a deadly power 
 in his hands. When I taxed them with 
 the discovery of their reckless plan they 
 admitted, but promised to abandon it. 
 About that time I was called East. 
 When I returned I let myself into the 
 office with a key I always carried, often 
 being detained late in town. The scene 
 I saw you witnessed as plainly as I did. 
 The blinds were down. Mark lay like 
 a corpse on the lounge. In the rear of 
 the office Prior was filling the bag which 
 was to occupy the coffin. Rob knew 
 that the test was to be made that night, 
 but he was not then present. I raged 
 when I learned that this trance was to 
 last twenty hours." 
 
 ' ' Why did you not insist " 
 "I tried to, but Prior's apparent con 
 trol of the situation, as well as his knowl 
 edge of its cause, were too much for me.
 
 280 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 It seemed that he, Rob and Mark had 
 gone into this as the easiest way of rais 
 ing money. Prior had proven by ex 
 periments that he could place Mark in 
 this condition so closely simulating 
 death, and later revive him. He was 
 to be spirited out of the state and the 
 insurance money divided. Later, he 
 could concoct, for the benefit of those 
 who knew him in the East, any fairy 
 tale to suit the occasion." 
 
 ' ' But if you had called a physician 
 attempted resuscitation ? " 
 
 "There was no medical man nearer 
 than twenty miles except Eldridge. 
 You know what he is. Prior declared 
 that to make any attempt before a cer 
 tain time to restore consciousness would 
 fail of effect. I persisted. He evi 
 dently made a sincere effort. It was a 
 failure, He was so confident that later 
 his attempts would be successful he al 
 most persuaded me. 'No doctor,' he 
 vowed, 'can handle this case intelli 
 gently. I know how I put him in such a 
 condition. I know how I can bring him
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 281 
 
 out of it. But I must have the full 
 time on which I reckoned. To-night 
 I shall inject a dose of the restorative 
 fluid, and use other means to bring him 
 to life. My methods shall prove as 
 efficacious then as they have formerly. ' ' 
 
 ' ' He really believed in the harmless- 
 ness of his experiment?" 
 
 "As far as most fanatics do. He 
 cared little when he discovered his fail 
 ure. All the time the funeral was wind 
 ing up the hill, I knew that the body of 
 the man whom all but two of those 
 present fancied they were interring, lay 
 stark on a bed in the little room of the 
 office." 
 
 The horrible heat of the day was be 
 ginning, but the girl sitting next to 
 Jardine shivered as if with cold. 
 
 ' ' That night Prior hypodermically in 
 jected the fluid. It produced no effect. 
 Again and again the needle punctured 
 the flesh of the man, who was, to all 
 appearances, dead. At last we imag 
 ined we detected a quiver of the limbs. 
 His eyes blazing, his hands shaking,
 
 282 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Prior once more pressed in the potent 
 needle. He withdrew it plunged it 
 again into the fluid that was to recall 
 life. 'The lids moved!' he gasped. I 
 pried open the clenched teeth poured 
 stimulants down. A galvanic life ran 
 through the frame. Then then it sat 
 erect, and looked at us with the eyes 
 of a madman!" 
 
 Neither spoke for a minute or so. 
 Then Ivera Lyle said: "Go on!" 
 
 "I'm afraid some of this is repeti 
 tion. I don't know how explicitly Rob 
 has told you the story of it all. I knew 
 only expert skill could restore reason. 
 I got a rig. We lifted him in. By the 
 way, just outside town Moll Chourka 
 stopped me. The lantern I carried 
 made her suppose the doctor for whom 
 she was looking was in the buggy. 
 She recognized Mark, and spoke of the 
 fact to me later. I drove eighteen miles 
 through the night with that senseless, 
 gibbering thing beside me." 
 
 That night Ivera Lyle and Jack Jar-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 283 
 
 dine stood together at the bedside of 
 a dying man. * 
 
 "You are only in time, " the physician 
 said. 
 
 Ivera looked sadly down on the face 
 she had held dear. Lack of intelligence 
 was its least fault. It bore lines of 
 dissipation of vice. But suddenly it 
 was beautiful. 
 
 ' ' Ivera ! You have come ! I have tried 
 so hard to remember. I know now. 
 You too, Jack! I wish I'd taken your 
 advice, old fellow! I called you Ivera 
 I called out to you to help me. Hi!" 
 with a shout, "drive up on that scale 
 there! Fourteen hundred and fifty! 
 Oats? Oats thirty cents. I can't marry 
 you, Mollie. Yes, you're just as pretty 
 as the girl back East, but that ain't it 
 I" 
 
 He sprang up in bed. Attendants 
 moved forward. Jardine offered Ivera 
 his arm. "Come!" he whispered. 
 
 "Yes," seconded the doctor, "go! 
 Even this gleam of consciousness is un 
 usual. He will recognize no one again. "
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned!" 
 Anthony and Cleopatra. 
 
 IT was the day before the Lyles were 
 to go East. Ivera had been from 
 the farm to the ranch and back again, 
 intent on many matters. Rob was will 
 ing to leave all the preparations for 
 departure to her. His was a leaning 
 nature, and he sweetly allowed those 
 who wished to bear his burdens the 
 privilege of doing so. 
 
 The hot, windy September day was 
 nearing a close when the girl found 
 herself in town. The glare was blind 
 ing. The heat was the heat of a fur 
 nace. The driven dust circled and 
 swirled, and powdered one's garments, 
 and stung the flesh like burning needles. 
 Several of the men lounging in the 
 shade of the lumber-yard office looked 
 
 after her. 
 
 284
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 285 
 
 ''Coin' back East, they say." 
 
 "She's in great luck." 
 
 ' ' Luckier fur him. Rob was drinkin' 
 himself to death when she come!" 
 
 "She weren't made fur here, nohow." 
 
 "I dunno," said the crippled cob 
 bler, "what was made fur here any 
 how, except gophers and jack rabbits." 
 
 "I tell you what," said the agent, 
 expectorating with much accuracy of 
 aim, "it was a cruel wrong to us when 
 this country was taken from the In 
 dians. Now, I vote it be left to the 
 Bohemians. They're the only folks 
 who can live here and retain any fear of 
 hell." 
 
 "Ain't you got any, Colonel?" 
 
 "Not now. I'm acclimated." 
 
 Ivera was on her way to visit some 
 children in whom she was interested, 
 when a huge, panting form barred her 
 way. 
 
 ' ' I seen you drive past, " puffed Mrs. 
 McLelland, "so I put my shoes on an' 
 my teeth in, an' come to bid you adoo. " 
 
 Ivera, looking aggravatingly cool and
 
 286 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 prodigiously pretty, smiled frankly up 
 at her. 
 
 ' ' It is very kind of you. I shall often 
 think of you." 
 
 "I'll think of you, too. Lots of us 
 will keep on doin' that. But I'm glad 
 you're goin' fur your own sake. Land ! 
 when I think of the time I lived only 
 a hundred an' twenty mile from Chi 
 cago! It's a good thing to git out'n 
 Nebraska before you're carried out. 
 That's what I say. Not that I ought 
 to complain at present. Business is 
 spry now, but it has its ameliorations. " 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 ' ' Yes, " mournfully. ' ' There was Pa, 
 give the most attractive coffing he had 
 in stock to the Stivers when their baby 
 died give it fur only three dollars an' 
 seventy cents profit because it had been 
 in stock a long time, the infant it had 
 been bought fur original havin' been 
 took away from here by its parents be 
 fore it got time to die, an' surrenderin' 
 its mortal breath in lowy. Well, Pa went 
 in to collect from Stiver who's the
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 287 
 
 druggist, you know. An' Pa told him 
 how cheap he let him have it at twenty- 
 one dollar, seein' the wood was a bit 
 chipped an' the linin' somewhat fly- 
 specked. Stiver paid Pa, an' Pa he 
 says, ' Seein' you got a bargain, I think 
 you ought to set up the sody water.' 
 An' would you believe it, that man says 
 reel sharp, 'I don't set up the sody 
 water on a dead baby!' Think of that 
 fur gratitood, now ! " 
 
 "Dear! Dear!" said Ivera. 
 
 ' ' I knowed you'd see the meanness of 
 the man. I tell you what, this weather 
 is awful promiscuous on a body. It 
 pretty near dilapidates me." 
 
 ' ' You are not looking very well. " 
 
 ' ' I ain't well. I had the doctor yis- 
 tiday. I've needed doctorin' fur nigh 
 onto seven year, but I wouldn't pay the 
 price. The trouble seemed to be with 
 them legs of mine, an' I says to Pa, 
 ' I despise the idea of payin' any man 
 a dollar to look at my lower conform 
 ities. ' But at last I did, an' he says to 
 me, ' It's dropsy or Bright's disease. I
 
 288 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 can't tell rightly which yet.' I tell you 
 it made me feel good to know there 
 was something reel bad the matter 
 with me, after I'd gone to the expense of 
 sending fur him." 
 
 Ivera looked rather surprised, and her 
 lips dimpled in at the corners. 
 
 ' ' Well, good-bye, " said the old lady. 
 ''Come out to see us if you git to 
 feelin' bad." 
 
 "The climate might help me?" 
 
 "Yes, an' ef it didn't me an' Pa 
 'ud be your friends, an' see that every 
 thing was done decent fur you. " With 
 which ambiguous promise she lumbered 
 away. 
 
 The starless, stirless dusk was every 
 where when Ivera walked up on the 
 hill. Without a glance she passed the 
 headstone erected to the memory of 
 Mark Dudley, and went to the grave 
 where Peter Jennings slept. When 
 she rose to her feet a tall figure stood 
 beside her. 
 
 "I fancied I might find you here," 
 said Jack Jardine. They were descend-
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 289 
 
 ing the hill together. ' ' He was a good 
 fellow, " said Jardine. 
 
 "Yes," she assented eagerly, " and 
 one who had not read his letters could 
 not understand what a scholarly, poetic, 
 charming character was his." 
 
 Jack murmured a word of surprise. 
 
 "Oh, indeed yes! He wrote to me, 
 and I found his letters delightful. I 
 have never met anyone whose ideas 
 were so wholly mine. He was con 
 genial in all his moods. I have kept 
 his letters. Sometime you may like to 
 read them." 
 
 "I should I assure you." 
 
 "Personally he did not give one the 
 impression of being brilliant, " she pro 
 ceeded warmly, "but no one jsould 
 write as he did who lacked exquisite 
 ability." 
 
 "I've no doubt he was quite excep 
 tional," Jardine agreed. 
 
 "A student a critic and so great 
 of heart," said Ivera Lyle. Jardine 
 did not dissent. He was a mere meek 
 echo. He sat with the brother and
 
 2QO LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 sister, talking late that night. When 
 he left Robert looked inquiringly at the 
 corded trunks. 
 
 " Every thing in, Ive?" 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "No we've forgotten my letters. 
 All that came since I was shot are in 
 the drawer of that table. Jardine said 
 it was empty, and that I had better 
 keep them there. Just dump them 
 into the valise like a good girl. It 
 isn't nearly full." 
 
 Ivera was putting the pile of busi 
 ness epistles into the valise, when a 
 familiar hand attracted her. The writ 
 ing was that in which the bulletins of 
 Rob's condition had been issued. Clearly 
 one perhaps more of Mr. Jardine's 
 papers had been left in the drawer. 
 She took the sheet out to lay it aside 
 when something strangely familiar about 
 the written lines caught her eye. The 
 beginning was a quotation from Owen 
 Meredith: 
 
 "My love, my chosen, but not mine, I send 
 My whole heart to thee in these words I 
 write!"
 
 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 291 
 
 ' ' I shall not say my best beloved, when 
 I mean my only and my all-beloved!" 
 and so on. The delicate, startled face 
 of the reader grew rose-pink from brow 
 to chin. That writing! Those words! 
 The passion and the pathos of it all! 
 She had read the letter before. Now 
 it set her lips trembling and the pulses 
 in her wrists beating to read it! One 
 page two three four! She knew 
 them all by heart, down to the yearn 
 ing, unfinished verse with which it 
 ended : 
 
 "And so I write, and write, and write, 
 
 For the mere sake of writing to you, dear!" 
 
 "Ive!" 
 
 " Coming!" She crushed the letter 
 into her pocket, and hastened to him. 
 
 They went East next day. Jardine 
 did not write. He was afraid some 
 trick of expression or style might be 
 tray him. In November he sold out 
 and bought shares in a mining com 
 pany. .. He doubled his investment, 
 quadrupled it, and took the train for
 
 2Q2 LIKE A GALLANT LADY 
 
 Chicago. It was June. The lake city 
 was cool and entrancing in the summer 
 sunshine. Somehow he had never fan 
 cied Ivera as he found her. She was 
 just leaving for a great function. There 
 were diamonds in her hair, and she 
 carried glowing roses. 
 
 It was on the rear platform of a 
 train. The depot was left behind. The 
 two, leaning against the rail, had eyes 
 only for each other. 
 
 "What paper is that you are hold 
 ing?" he asked. 
 
 She held it so he could see. ' ' Did 
 you write this, Jack ? Did you, " sud 
 den light breaking in upon her, "write 
 the original of every letter that Peter 
 Jennings sent me?" 
 
 ' ' Ivera dearest !" 
 
 "Of course you can't answer. I 
 should not have asked you. " She tore 
 the letter into little bits, and let the 
 wind from the west waft them away. 
 
 THE END.
 
 THIS BOOK HAS BEEN PRINTED 
 DURING OCTOBER, 1897, BY THE 
 BLAKELY PRINTING COMPANY. 
 CHICAGO, FOR WAY ft WILLIAMS.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is, DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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 1968 
 
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