ngs,' and
hasn't even written to you! That's the thing I can't understand--your
running after him when he's dropped you--gone without a word or a line
to you."

"He may have written, Muzzie. Letters are lost, you know, sometimes."

"Very seldom. _Very_ seldom!" Mrs. Lorimer hotly proclaimed her faith in
her government's efficiency. "I haven't lost three letters in forty
years. No. He's jilted you, Honor. That's the ugly, shameful truth, and
you're too blind to see it. If you knew the things Carter told his
mother----"

"I don't want to know them, Muzzie."

"Of course you don't. That's just it! Blind! Blind and
stubborn,--determined to wreck and ruin your whole life. And I must
stand by, helpless, and see you do it. And the _danger_ of the thing!
With Diaz out of the country it's in the hands of the brigands. You'll
be murdered ... or worse! Well--I know whose head your blood will be on.
Not mine, thank Heaven!" There was very little that day, Mildred Lorimer
felt, that she could thank Heaven for. It was not using her well.

"You know that Stepper will give me letters and telegraph ahead to the
train people," said Honor. "And you mustn't believe all the hysterical
tales in the newspapers, Muzzie dear. Here's Stepper now."

Stephen Lorimer was turning the car in at the driveway and a moment
later he came into the house. He looked very tired but he smiled at his
stepdaughter. "You're in luck, Top Step! I've just come from the Mexican
Consulate. Met some corking people there, Mexicans, starting home
to-morrow. They'll be with you until the last day of your trip! Mother
and father and daughter,--Menendez is the name. Fascinating creatures.
I've got your reservations, in the same car with them! Mildred," he
turned to his wife, still speaking cheerily but begging for absolution
with his tired eyes, "Senora Menendez--Menendez y Garcia is the whole
name--sent her compliments and said to tell you she would 'guard your
daughter as her own.' Doesn't that make you feel better about it?"

"She can defend her from bandits, I suppose?"

"My dear, there will be Senor Menendez, and they tell me the tales of
violence are largely newspaper stuff,--as I've told you repeatedly. They
will not only look after Honor all the way but they will telegraph to
friends to meet her at Cordoba and drive her out to the Kings'
_rancho_--I explained that she wished to surprise her friends. I don't
mind telling you now that I should have gone with