xperience, he could not find some other way
to determine her convictions or win her confidence during those two
hours of companionship. He would accept her terms fairly; if she had
any ulterior design in her advances, he would detect it; if she had the
least concern for him, she could not continue long an artificial
friendship. But he must not think of that!

By absenting himself from the hotel he managed to keep clear of
Pendleton until the hour arrived. He was gratified to find Yerba in
the simplest and most sensible of habits, as if she had already divined
his tastes and had wished to avoid attracting undue attention.
Nevertheless, it very prettily accented her tall graceful figure, and
Paul, albeit, like most artistic admirers of the sex, not recognizing a
woman on a horse as a particularly harmonious spectacle, was forced to
admire her. Both rode well, and naturally--having been brought up in
the same Western school--the horses recognized it, and instinctively
obeyed them, and their conversation had the easy deliberation and
inflection of a tete-a-tete. Paul, in view of her previous hint, talked
to her of himself and his fortunes, of which she appeared, however, to
have some knowledge. His health had obliged him lately to abandon
politics and office; he had been successful in some ventures, and had
become a junior partner in a bank with foreign correspondence. She
listened to him for some time with interest and attention, but at last
her face became abstracted and thoughtful. "I wish I were a man!" she
said suddenly.

Paul looked at her quickly. For the first time he detected in the ring
of her voice something of the passionate quality he fancied he had
always seen in her face.

"Except that it might give you better control of your horse, I don't
see why," said Paul. "And I don't entirely believe you."

"Why?"

"Because no woman really wishes to be a man unless she is conscious of
her failure as a woman."

"And how do you know I'm not?" she said, checking her horse and looking
in his face. A quick conviction that she was on the point of some
confession sprang into his mind, but unfortunately showed in his face.
She beat back his eager look with a short laugh. "There, don't speak,
and don't look like that. That remark was worthy the usual artless
maiden's invitation to a compliment, wasn't it? Let us keep to the
subject of yourself. Why, with your political influence, don't you get
yourself appo