as glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, "I wasn't
frightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake."

"Ah!" he reflected, "that was because you were a stranger. It's
odd--they're all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really expects
or believes in the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the thing that
always happens. And then, of course, that other affair, which really is
serious, startled you the more."

She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. "I don't know what
you mean," she said icily. "What other affair?"

"Why, the well."

"The well?" she repeated vacantly.

"Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?"

"No," said the girl. "He was away; I haven't seen him yet."

"Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm here
for. The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it."

"And is that stoppage so very important?" she said dubiously.

It was his turn to look at her wonderingly.

"If it's LOST entirely, it means ruin for the ranch," he said sharply.
He wheeled his horse, nodded gravely, and trotted off.

Major Randolph's figure of the "life-blood of the ranch" flashed across
her suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly appliances
by which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long summer droughts.
She only vaguely guessed that the dreadful earthquake had struck at the
prosperity of those people whom only a few hours ago she had been proud
to call her friends. The underlying goodness of her nature was touched.
Should she let a momentary fault--if it were not really, after all,
only a misunderstanding--rise between her and them at such a moment? She
turned and hurried quickly towards the house.

Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also why
these common men--she now included even the young inventor in that
category--were all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never before
been treated in this way; she had always been rather embarrassed by the
admiring attentions of young men (clerks and collegians) in her Atlantic
home, and, of professional men (merchants and stockbrokers) in San
Francisco. It was true that they were not as continually devoted to her
and to the nice art and etiquette of pleasing as Emile,--they had other
things to think about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,--but
then they were greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice of
her, and rode off without lingering or for