Whenever he could do it, Ralph Haverley liked to get things clear and straightforward in his mind.  He had applied this rule to all matters of his former business, and he now applied it to the affairs of his present estate.  But how much more important was it to apply the rules to Dora Bannister!  Nothing had ever put his mind into a condition less clear and straightforward than the visit of that young lady.  The main point to be decided upon was:  what should he do about seeing her again?  He was filled by an all-pervading desire to do that; but how should he set about it?  The simplest plan would be to go and see her; but if he did so, he knew he ought to take his sister with him, and he had no reason to believe that Miriam would be in any hurry to return Miss Bannister’s visit.  If he had been acquainted with the brother, the case would have been different, but that gentleman had not yet called upon him.

Having thought some time on this subject, Ralph sat upright, and rearranged his reflections.

“Why is it,” he said to himself, “that I am so anxious to see her again, and to see her as soon as possible?”

To the solution of this question, Ralph applied the full force of his intellectual powers.  The conclusion that came to him after about six seconds of deliberation was not well defined, but it indicated that if almost any young man had had in his house—­actually living with him and taking part in his household affairs—­an unusually handsome young woman, who, not only by her appearance, but by her gentle and thoughtful desire to adapt herself to the tastes and circumstances of himself and his sister, seemed to belong in the place into which she had so suddenly dropped, that young man would naturally want to see that young woman just as soon as he could.  This would be so in any similar case, and there was no use in trying to find out why it was so in this case.

He rose to his feet, and at that moment he heard Miriam calling to him.

“Ralph,” she said, running into the barn, “I have been looking all over for you.  The new woman cannot come to-day.”

“I do not see why you should appear so delighted about it,” said Ralph; “I am very sorry to hear it.”

“And I am not,” replied Miriam.  “There are some things I want to do before she comes, and I am very glad to have the chance.  Mike brought back word from her that if you send the wagon in the cool of the morning, she will come over with her trunk.”

“You are a funny girl,” said Ralph, “to be actually pleased at the prospect of cooking and doing housework a little longer.”  And as he said that, he congratulated himself that his sister had not had the chance of thinking him a funny fellow for lying stretched on the hay when he ought to have been at work.

Miriam was now in good spirits again.  She walked to the great open window, and, leaning on the bar, looked out.