Wemple, who was wont to be the last, was the very first to present
himself.

Then followed a series of gayeties in which Barbara was the central
figure, and Lieutenant Wemple her constant attendant. Whether it was a
dinner, or a reception, or a picnic party up the canyon, or a horseback
excursion to the turquoise mines, he spent as much time by her side as
the other people allowed. Barbara enjoyed it all with the zest of a
mortal let loose in wonderland, and thought that nowhere else in the
world could there be such delightful people as her new friends. It
seemed to her that she had at last come into her own inheritance and
found the people among whom she really belonged. But she liked best of
all the quiet afternoons at home, when she and Mrs. Coolidge sat in the
_placita_, and Lieutenant Wemple came, and they three read and talked
together.

The young officer thought her a more interesting companion than any white
girl he had ever met. The world--his world--was all so new and
marvellous to her that it was like opening its doors to some visitor from
another planet. He took great pleasure in doing that service and in
seeing how quickly and eagerly she absorbed everything she saw and heard
and read; and he found her fresh and constant interest entirely
delightful. So it soon came about that the quiet afternoons at home grew
more and more frequent.

One day in early June they stood together in the _placita_ and agreed
that it was very beautiful. The proposition was evident enough and
likely to cap forth enthusiastic assent from any one. For the plumy
green branches of the locust tree were heavy with pendent clusters of
odorous white bloom; the iris that circled the fountain was glorious in