ranch, and the place would be filled with his company, and their horses and
jockeys and servants. Then mama would fly with me till the reign of sport
was over. It was a terrible grief to have to go at the only time when the
ranch was not a prison. I grew up nursing a crop of smothered rebellions
and longings which I was ashamed to confess. At sixteen mama was to take me
abroad for two years; I was to be presented and brought home in triumph,
unless Europe refused to part with a pearl of such price. All pearls have
their price. I was not left in absolute ignorance of my own. Of all who
suffered through that night's madness of mine, poor mama is most to be
pitied. There was no limit to her pride in me, and she has never made the
least pretense that religion or philosophy could comfort her.

"Now, before I really begin, shall we not speak of something else for a
while? I do not want to be quite without mercy."

"I think you had better go on," said Mrs. Thorne gently; "but take off your
bonnet, my dear."

"Still 'my dear'?" sighed the girl. "Is so much kindness quite consistent
with your duty? Will you leave _all_ the plain speaking to me?"

"Forgive me," said the mother humbly; "but I cannot call you 'Miss
Benedet.' We seem to have got beyond that."

"Oh, we have got beyond everything! There is no precedent for us in the
past"--she felt for her hat pins--"and no hope in the future." She put off
the winged circlet that crowned her hair, and Mrs. Thorne took it from her.
Almost shyly the middle-aged woman, who had never herself been even pretty,
looked at the sad young beauty, sitting uncovered in the moonlight.