alive unless you have a pint of milk with a little dash of what Patsy
calls 'oh-be-joyful' in it."

He left the room for a moment, while she sat watching the door as a
prisoner might watch for the return of a friendly jailer. He had a
curious influence over her. It was wholly different from that of
Orlando. Presently he returned.

"It's all right," he said. "Patsy and you and I will be at Nolan Doyle's
ranch in another hour. I've sent word to Mrs. Doyle. I've ordered your
milk-punch too, and now I think I'll make my salad. You never saw me
make a salad," he added, smiling. "I've done some successful operations
in my day; I've played about with bones and sinews, proud of my work
sometimes, but the making of a perfect salad is the proud achievement of
a master-mind." He laughed like a boy. "'Come hither, come hither, my
little daughter, and do not tremble so,'" he said so cheerfully as to be
almost jeering.

His cheerfulness was not in vain, for a smile stole to her lips, though
it only flickered for an instant and was gone. For all that, he knew he
had saved the situation, and that another chapter of the life-history of
Orlando and Louise had been ended. A fresh chapter would begin tomorrow;
but sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof.




CHAPTER XII

MAN UNNATURAL