Falconer told her, and described Mrs. Gaylor as being a beautiful as well as immensely rich young woman.

“It must be over a year since her husband died,” he added. “’Old Grizzly Gaylor’ he was called; a brute, I’m afraid.  His taking off must have been a relief to her.  She’s left with a splendid property.  I’ve heard it said there may be a match between her and Hilliard.  He used to be foreman of her husband’s ranch; but now he’s a landowner on his own account; struck oil, and made a pile of money selling a gusher—­the biggest and longest-lived we’ve had yet.”

“Are they engaged?” inquired Theo.

“I don’t know.  It isn’t announced, anyhow.  But it wouldn’t be a bad match, even for a rich woman.  Hilliard’s a fine fellow, all the finer because he’s a self-made man.  By the way, the Gaylor place is one of the show ranches of California.  I think we ought to take you to see it.”

“Do!” cried Miss Dene.  “I could write about it, couldn’t I?  I’d like to see Mrs. Gaylor.  Another California type for my book!”

And again she asked herself, “I wonder if dear Angela knows about the Prince?”

XIII

FOR THE SAKE OF DRAMATIC EFFECT

Somehow, Miss Dene got herself invited to spend the afternoon in seeing with Mrs. May and Hilliard all the things which Falconer and his sister had spent the whole morning in showing her.  Exactly how she did this she herself might have told—­with her occasional startling frankness—­if she had chosen.  But Mrs. May could not.  Perhaps Angela had invited her, or said something which could be snapped up as an invitation; for Nick would hardly have suggested a second guest unless his first guest expressly wished for one.  In any case, the fact remained that Theo Dene was going in the yellow car for a spin round Santa Barbara, to the Country Club, the Hope Ranch, and above all, to the Mission.

She stood talking on the veranda to Falconer and Mrs. Harland, as she waited for Angela to come down, and for Hilliard to bring round the car.  Her host and hostess were laughing at her change of plans, for she had announced, early in the day, that she meant to “lie down all the afternoon and rest her features.”

“Who is the beautiful Mrs. May?” asked Falconer.

Theo did not like this way of putting the question, because, quite sincerely, she herself admired no woman who was not of her own type.  She was tempted to take advantage of Angela’s desire not to be known, and say:  “Oh, she’s one of a thousand other pretty travelling women with intermittent husbands.”  This would have been epigrammatic, and at the same time it might have quenched dawning interest in the stranger.  Neither the brother nor sister was of the sort who favoured flitting ladies with vague male belongings kept in the background.  But suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to Miss Dene, who loved dramatic effects.