"Is there? I'll look it up after breakfast; I haven't my glasses now,"
Mrs. Dean replied. "I thought myself that everything passed off pretty
well. What did you think of Katherine last night, David?"
The lines about his mouth deepened as he answered, quietly,-"She'll do, if she is my child. I didn't see any finer than she; and old
Stockton's daughter, with all her father's millions, couldn't touch
her!"
"I had no idea the child was so beautiful," Mrs. Dean continued; "she
seemed to come out so unexpectedly some way, just like a flower
unfolding. I never was so surprised in my life."
"I guess the little girl took a good many of 'em by surprise, judging by
appearances," Mr. Underwood remarked, a shrewd smile lighting his stern
features.
"Yes, she received a great deal of attention," rejoined his sister. "I
suppose," she added thoughtfully, "she'll have lots of admirers 'round
here now."
"No, she won't," Mr. Underwood retorted, with decision, at the same
time pushing back his chair and rising hastily; "I'll see to it that she
doesn't. If the right man steps up and means business, all right; but
I'll have no hangers-on or fortune-hunters dawdling about!"
His sister watched him curiously with a faint smile. "You had better
advertise for the kind of man you want," she said, dryly, "and state
that 'none others need apply,' as a warning to applicants whom you might
consider undesirable."
Mr. Underwood turned quickly. "What are you driving at?" he demanded,
impatiently. "I've no time for beating about the bush."
"And I've no time for explanations," she replied, with exasperating
calmness; "you can think it over at your leisure."
With a contemptuous "Humph!" Mr. Underwood left the house. After he had
gone his sister sat for a while in deep thought, then, with a sigh, rose
and went about her accustomed duties. She had been far more keen than
her brother to observe the growing intimacy between her niece and
Darrell, and she had seen some indications on the previous evening which
troubled her, as much on Darrell's account as Kate's, for she had become
deeply attached to the young man, and she well knew that her brother
would not look upon him with favor as a suitor for his daughter.
Meanwhile, Darrell, on reaching the office, found work and study alike
impossible. The room seemed narrow and stifling; the medley of sound
from the adjoining offices and from the street was distracting. He
recalled the companions of his earlier days of pain and conflict,--the
mountains,--and his heart yearned for their restful silence, for the
soothing and uplifting of their solemn presence.
Having left a brief note on Mr. Underwood's desk he closed his office,
and, leaving the city behind him, started on foot up the familiar canyon
road. After a walk of an hour or more he left the road, and, striking
into a steep, narrow trail, began the ascent of one of the mountains of
the main range. It still lacked a little of midday when he at last found
himself on a narrow bench, near the summit, in a small growth of pines
and firs. He stopped from sheer exhaustion and looked about him. Not a
sign of human life was visible; not a sound broke the stillness save an
occasional breath of air murmuring through the pines and the trickling
of a tiny rivulet over the rocks just above where he stood. Going to the
little stream he caught the crystal drops as they fell, quenching his
thirst and bathing his heated brow; then, somewhat refreshed, he braced
himself for the inevitable conflict.