Miss Deringham laughed a little.  “One seldom tells one’s troubles to one’s friends,” she said.

Alton seemed to sigh.  “Then there is nothing I can do?”

“Yes,” said Miss Deringham.  “People are usually best alone when they have to grapple with a difficulty.”

Alton still lingered a moment.  “If you don’t want to tell me, I don’t know how to make you, and I’m sorry, because I might fix the thing up,” he said gravely.  “Well, I’m going, but it hurts me to see anything worrying you, and know that somebody else has brought it upon you.”

“How could you know that?” said the girl.

The man smiled a little.  “It’s quite simple,” said he, “You are too good and kind to bring sorrow upon yourself or anybody.”

This was much better, but it was over-late now, and, for the girl said nothing, he moved away, and presently met Seaforth as he strode down the trail.

“Hallo!” said the latter.  “Where are you going, Harry?”

“I know where you can go,” said Alton grimly, “and that’s right away to the devil.”

Seaforth laughed a little.  “And that’s the woman’s work.  It’s a pity Harry can’t distinguish between paste and diamonds,” said he.

It happened about this time that Miss Townshead sat in an attitude of expectancy in her father’s house.  Townshead, still wearing the red velvet jacket, sat in the old leather chair, with the resignation of the incapable stamped upon him, and the cigar and cup of coffee close by.  His attitude seemed to imply that he was a very ill-used man, but had discovered that it was no use protesting.  He sipped his coffee delicately, and then glanced towards his daughter with a trace of irritation.

“I wish you could keep still, my dear,” he said.  “There is an inquietude in your very pose that unsettles me, and with a little fortitude one can get used to anything.  For instance, if anybody had told me five years ago that I could take my after-dinner coffee without a slight flavour of old cognac I should not have believed them.”

Nellie Townshead evinced a little impatience.  “It might be slightly more difficult to dispense with the dinner, as well as the coffee, and that is what we shall probably have to do presently,” said she.  “Why did you borrow that money from Mr. Hallam, father?  Any one could have seen that he was a rascal, and I believe that Mr. Seaforth warned you.”

Townshead sighed.  “The difficulty,” he said, “is to arrive at a correct decision before one knows what will happen.  Afterwards, it is comparatively easy.  It appeared desirable to buy some cattle, and that I should visit Victoria, where I made an unfortunate speculation, to recuperate after my last attack.  During my absence Jack, as you will remember, lost some of the cattle and mismanaged the ranch.  Mr. Seaforth is also a young man who occasionally takes too much upon himself.”

The girl flushed a little.  “Jack worked from morning to night, and if we had spent a few dollars hiring somebody to help him, it would have been better for all of us,” she said.  “That, however, is not the question.  What are we to do when we are turned out of the ranch, as we shall be very shortly?”