ry, for the benefit of their visitor.
This was a lesser problem, and one he came near to achieving. Before
he left them, he resolved that Diane stood in great awe, not to say
fear, of her father. This to him was astonishing, judging by the
strength of character every feature in her face displayed. It seemed
to him that she was striving hard to bestow affection on him--trying
to create an affection that had no place in her heart. Her efforts
were painfully apparent. She convinced him at once of a lively sense
of duty--a sense she was carrying to a point that was almost pitiful.
All this he felt sure of, but it was the man who finally baffled him
as he had baffled him before. How he regarded Diane it was impossible
to say. Sometimes he could have sworn that the man's devotion to her
was that of one who, helpless, clings to a support which never fails
him; at others, he treated her to a sneering intolerance, which roused
the young man's ire; and, again, he would change his tone, till the
undercurrent of absolute hatred drowned the studied courtesy which
veneered it. And when he finally rose to leave the verandah and seek
out the foreman and report himself for duty, it was with a genuine
feeling of relief at leaving the presence of those dreadful red eyes.

Diane was packing up the tea-things, and Tresler still lingered on the
verandah; he was watching the blind man as he tapped his way into the
house. Then, as he disappeared, and the sound of his shuffling feet
grew faint and distant, he became aware that Diane was standing
holding the tray and watching him. He knew, too, by her attentive
attitude, that she was listening to ascertain when her father should
be out of ear-shot. As the sounds died away, and all became silent
within the house, she came over to him. She spoke without pausing on
her way; it seemed that she feared observation.

"Don't forget, Mr. Tresler, what I told you about Jake. Be warned. In
spite of what you say, you do not know him."

"Thanks, Miss Marbolt," he replied warmly; "I shall not forget."

Diane was about to speak again, but the voice of her father, harsh and
strident enough now, reached them from the hallway.

"Come in, child, and let Tresler go to his work."

And Tresler noted the expression of fear that leapt into the girl's
face as she hurriedly passed into the house. He stood for a moment
wrathful and wondering; then he strode away toward the corrals,
reflecting on the strange events w