“My dear Ned,” said Lee, “the fact that Mrs. Hale has a husband, and knows that she can’t marry me, puts us on equal terms.  Nothing that she could learn about me hereafter would make a flirtation with me any less wrong than it would be now, or make her seem more a victim.  Can you say the same of yourself and that Puritan girl?”

“But you did not advise me to keep aloof from her; on the contrary, you—­”

“I thought you might make the best of the situation, and pay her some attention, because you could not go any further.”

“You thought I was utterly heartless and selfish, like—­”

“Ned!”

Falkner walked rapidly to the fireplace, and returned.

“Forgive me, George—­I’m a fool—­and an ungrateful one.”

Lee did not reply at once, although he took and retained the hand Falkner had impulsively extended.  “Promise me,” he said slowly, after a pause, “that you will say nothing yet to either of these women.  I ask it for your own sake, and this girl’s, not for mine.  If, on the contrary, you are tempted to do so from any Quixotic idea of honor, remember that you will only precipitate something that will oblige you, from that same sense of honor, to separate from the girl forever.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Enough!” said he, with a quick return of his old reckless gayety.  “Shoot-Off-His-Mouth—­the Beardless Boy Chief of the Sierras—­has spoken!  Let the Pale Face with the black moustache ponder and beware how he talks hereafter to the Rippling Cochituate Water!  Go!”

Nevertheless, as soon as the door had closed upon Falkner, Lee’s smile vanished.  With his colorless face turned to the fading light at the window, the hollows in his temples and the lines in the corners of his eyes seemed to have grown more profound.  He remained motionless and absorbed in thought so deep that the light rustle of a skirt, that would at other times have thrilled his sensitive ear, passed unheeded.  At last, throwing off his reverie with the full and unrestrained sigh of a man who believes himself alone, he was startled by the soft laugh of Mrs. Hale, who had entered the room unperceived.

“Dear me!  How portentous!  Really, I almost feel as if I were interrupting a tete-a-tete between yourself and some old flame.  I haven’t heard anything so old-fashioned and conservative as that sigh since I have been in California.  I thought you never had any Past out here?”

Fortunately his face was between her and the light, and the unmistakable expression of annoyance and impatience which was passed over it was spared her.  There was, however, still enough dissonance in his manner to affect her quick feminine sense, and when she drew nearer to him it was with a certain maiden-like timidity.

“You are not worse, Mr. Lee, I hope?  You have not over-exerted yourself?”

“There’s little chance of that with one leg—­if not in the grave at least mummified with bandages,” he replied, with a bitterness new to him.