as somewhat disturbed; he was glad that his
daughter had become less negligent of her personal appearance; he could
not but see, with the others, how it enhanced her graces; but he was,
with the others, not entirely satisfied with her reasons. And he could
not help observing--what was more or less patent to ALL--that Starbuck
was far from being equally responsive to her attentions, and at times
was indifferent and almost uncivil. Nobody seemed to be satisfied with
Polly's transformation but herself.

But eventually she was obliged to assert herself. The third evening
after Starbuck's arrival she was going over to the cabin of Aunt Chloe,
who not only did the washing for Buena Vista, but assisted Polly in
dressmaking. It was not far, and the night was moonlit. As she crossed
the garden she saw Starbuck moving in the manzanita bushes beyond; a
mischievous light came into her eyes; she had not EXPECTED to meet him,
but she had seen him go out, and there were always POSSIBILITIES. To her
surprise, however, he merely lifted his hat as she passed, and
turned abruptly in another direction. This was more than the little
heart-breaker of Buena Vista was accustomed to!

"Oh, Mr. Starbuck!" she called, in her laziest voice.

He turned almost impatiently.

"Since you're so civil and pressing, I thought I'd tell you I was just
runnin' over to Aunt Chloe's," she said dryly.

"I should think it was hardly the proper thing for a young lady to do
at this time of night," he said superciliously. "But you know best,--you
know the people here."

Polly's cheeks and eyes flamed. "Yes, I reckon I do," she said crisply;
"it's only a STRANGER here would think of being rude. Good-night, Mr.
Starbuck!"

She tripped away after this Parthian shot, yet feeling, even in her
triumph, that the conceited fool seemed actually relieved at her
departure! And for the first time she now thought that she had seen
something in his face that she did not like! But her lazy independence
reasserted itself soon, and half an hour later, when she had left Aunt
Chloe's cabin, she had regained her self-esteem. Yet, to avoid meeting
him again, she took a longer route home, across the dried ditch and over
the bluff, scarred by hydraulics, and so fell, presently, upon the old
garden at the point where it adjoined the abandoned diggings. She was
quite sure she had escaped a meeting with Starbuck, and was gliding
along under the shadow of the pear-trees, when she sud