deline
saw that, whatever had been the state of Christine's feeling for Ambrose
before this marriage, she loved him now. She had been taken forcibly,
but she was won.

After Christine had gone, comforted and betraying her shy eagerness
to get back to Ambrose, Madeline was haunted by the look in the girl's
eyes, and her words. Assuredly the spell of romance was on this sunny
land. For Madeline there was a nameless charm, a nameless thrill
combating her sense of the violence and unfitness of Ambrose's wooing.
Something, she knew not what, took arms against her intellectual
arraignment of the cowboy's method of getting himself a wife. He had
said straight out that he loved the girl--he had asked her to marry
him--he kissed her--he hugged her--he lifted her upon his horse--he rode
away with her through the night--and he married her. In whatever light
Madeline reviewed this thing she always came back to her first natural
impression; it thrilled her, charmed her. It went against all the
precepts of her training; nevertheless, it was somehow splendid and
beautiful. She imagined it stripped another artificial scale from her
over-sophisticated eyes.

Scarcely had she settled again to the task on her desk when Stillwell's
heavy tread across the porch interrupted her. This time when he entered
he wore a look that bordered upon the hysterical; it was difficult to
tell whether he was trying to suppress grief or glee.

"Miss Majesty, there's another amazin' strange thing sprung on me.
Hyars Jim Bell come to see you, an', when I taxed him, sayin' you was
tolerable busy, he up an' says he was hungry an' he ain't a-goin' to eat
any more bread made in a wash-basin! Says he'll starve first. Says Nels
hed the gang over to big bunk an' feasted them on bread you taught him
how to make in some new-fangled bucket-machine with a crank. Jim says
thet bread beat any cake he ever eat, an' he wants you to show him how
to make some. Now, Miss Majesty, as superintendent of this ranch I ought
to know what's goin' on. Mebbe Jim is jest a-joshin' me. Mebbe he's gone
clean dotty. Mebbe I hev. An' beggin' your pardon, I want to know if
there's any truth in what Jim says Nels says."

Whereupon it became necessary for Madeline to stifle her mirth and to
inform the sadly perplexed old cattleman that she had received from the
East a patent bread-mixer, and in view of the fact that her household
women had taken fright at the contrivance, she had essayed to