ss's
tipple he became clear enough to register with himself a vow. "Lola has
got to know the truth!" he declared. "Maybe it's none of my business,
but all the same she's going to know it, and know it now!" And he got
up, grimly resolute.

WISE IMPULSES

CHAPTER FOUR

WISE IMPULSES

The next day was the last of the school term, and it afforded the
doctor an opportunity for carrying out his resolve. There was a base of
sound reason in his purposed action. It might give the girl pain,
indeed, to hear what he felt impelled to tell her; it is not pleasant
to have a broken bone set, yet the end is a good one. The doctor felt
that Lola's mind held a smoldering distrust of Jane, which not even the
consciousness of Jane's love could dispel.

The girl, without directly formulating so strong a case against Jane,
obscurely held her accountable for that division from her father which
she deplored. Doubtless it was affection which had caused Jane to ask
Mr. Keene to leave his child behind. Affection also might have
jealously deterred Jane from giving Lola her father's infrequent
letters. But affection cannot excuse what is unworthy; and Lola's
thoughts ran vaguely with a distrust which did something to embitter
the wholesome tides of life.

"I am right to put an end to Miss Combs's unwise benevolence," thought
the doctor, as he tied his horse outside the schoolhouse.

Throngs of white-frocked girls were chattering about the yard. Rows of
Mexican children squatted silent and stolid against the red walls,
unmoved by those excitements of closing day which stirred their
American mates to riotous glee. The wives of the miners and town
merchants were arriving in twos and threes. Gaunt Mexican women,
holding quiet babies in their looped _rebozos_, stood about, hardly
ever speaking.

Senora Vigil, more lavishly built than the rest of her countrywomen
and gayer of port than they, moved from group to group, talking
cheerfully. Jane also awaited the opening of the schoolhouse door,
watching the scene with interest and having no conception of herself as
an object of note, in her elderly black bonnet and short jean skirt.

Presently Senor Juarez, the Mexican master, appeared. The bell in the
slate dome rang loudly, and the throng filed indoors. There was the
usual array of ceremonies appropriate to occasions like this. Small
boys spoke "pieces," which they forgot, being audibly prompted, while
the audience experienced u