hile, there was nothing
for it but to wait. He went back to the _hacienda_ where he had been
visiting, and life--the merry, lyrical life of _El Pozo_, moved forward.
Jimsy's only woe was that he was condemned by her own decision to share
Honor lavishly with his uncle and aunt and their friends and Carter.
"Skipper, after all these years, leaving me for a darn' tea!"

"Jimsy, dear," she scolded him, "you know that it's the very least I can
do, now isn't it--honestly? Think how lovely she's been to us, and how
much it means to her, having people here. And we've got all our lives
ahead of us, Jimsy! Be good! And besides"--she colored a little and
hesitated--"it's--not kind to Cartie." Then, at the sobering of his
face, "You know he--cares for me, Jimsy, and I don't believe it's just
cricket for us to--to sort of wave our happiness in his face all the
time."

He sighed crossly. "But--good Lord, Skipper,--he's got to get used to
it!"

"Of course,--but need we--rub it in, just now?" The fact was that Honor
was anxious. Carter was pallid, haggard, morose. The brief flare of
composure with which he had greeted her was gone; he showed visibly and
unpleasantly what he was suffering at the sight of their vivid and
hearty happiness. Mrs. King had commented pityingly on it to Honor and
it was simply not in the girl to go on adding to his misery. She began
to be very firm with Jimsy about their long walks or rides alone; she
accepted all Mrs. King's invitations and plans for them; she included
Carter whenever it was possible. These restrictions had naturally the
result of making Jimsy the more ardent in their scant privacy, and
Honor, amazingly free from coquetry though she was, must have sensed it.
Perhaps the truth was that she had in her, after all, something of
Mildred Lorimer's feeling for values and conventions; having flown from
Florence to Cordoba to her lover she was reclaiming a little of her
aloofness and cool ladyhood by this discipline. But she was entirely
honest in her wish to spare Carter so far as possible. Once, when Jimsy
was briefly away with his Yaqui henchman she asked Carter to walk with
her, but he decided for the dim _sala;_ the heat which seemed to
invigorate and vitalize Jimsy left him limp and spent.

He brushed her generalities roughly aside. "Are you happy, Honor?"

She lifted her candid eyes to his bleak young face. "Yes, Cartie.
Happier than ever before--and I've been happy all my life."

He was