her, if she has not enough
pride to refuse your invitation. Do you want me to go? Or will you
ask her to go?'

Longstreet had not expected this, and for a moment was utterly at a
loss. He looked at his daughter in bewilderment; he turned from her to
Howard and finally to Sanchia herself as though for help. His face was
puckered up; he looked ridiculously as though he were on the verge of
tears. Sanchia had the effrontery to pat his arm and whisper:

'Dear friend, that you should be distressed because of me.'

But she did not offer to go. She sat still again and watched and
waited.

'I have begun packing for both of us,' Helen went on. 'You should come
back home. If you refuse to go I shall have to go alone.'

To her amazement her father appeared suddenly relieved. He had never
been parted from her for forty-eight hours consecutively since she
could remember; he had never seemed competent to get through the day
without her countless ministrations; he had leaned on her more than she
on him; and yet the stupefying certainty was that now his face cleared
and he actually smiled as he accepted her threat as a sensible solution
of the problem.

'No doubt you are right, my dear,' he nodded vigorously. 'This is a
wild sort of country after all; it is hard for a girl, bred as you have
been. Perhaps if you went East it would be better. I could stay here;
I'd find my mine very soon; I'd take some one in with me in order to
raise a large sum of money immediately. And then, when I had builded a
fine home and had everything ready for you, you'd come back to me!' He
was carried away with his dream. He rubbed his hands together, and had
he been playing poker you would have known he held nothing less than a
royal flush. 'You always rise superior to the situation, my dear;
always.'

But Helen's face would have indicated that the situation had mastered
her. Her own eyes filled with vexation; she dashed the tears aside and
her anger rose. Of all men in the world her father, with his gentle
innocence, could at times be the most maddening. And, withdrawn a
little behind her father, she saw Sanchia laughing into her
handkerchief.

On the instant Helen had the clear vision to know that in this skirmish
she was defeated. She had thought her father would follow her; she
knew that she would not go without him. At least not yet. In a moment
her anger would get the best of her; she went quickly to the door and
outsid