He came rushing into the ranch-house, and caught her in his arms, laughing and eager, half wild with the joy of seeing his mother and his girl in each other’s company, and too radiant to suspect that his mother’s happiness was not as great as his own.

“You got my letter about our engagement, mater?  Of course,—­and you came right on to meet my girl yourself, didn’t you?  Good little mater, that was perfectly great of you!  This is just about the best thing that ever—­and isn’t she sweet—­do you blame me?” He had his arm about Manzanita, their eyes were together, his tender and proud, the girl’s laughing and shy,—­they did not see Mrs. Phelps’s expression.  “And what did you think?” Austin rushed on, “Were you surprised?  Did you tell Cornelia?  That’s good.  Did you tell every one—­have the home papers had it?  You know, mother,” Austin dropped his voice confidentially, “I wasn’t sure you’d be awfully glad,—­ just at first, you know.  I knew you would be the minute you saw Manz’ita; but I was afraid—­But now, it’s all right,—­and it’s just great!”

“But I thought Yerba Buena was quite a little village, dear,” said Mrs. Phelps, accusingly.

“What’s the difference?” said Austin, cheerfully, much concerned because Manzanita was silently implying that he should remove his arm from her waist.

“Why, I thought I could stay at a hotel, or at least a boarding-house—­” began his mother.  Miss Boone laughed out.  She was a noisy young creature.

“We’ll ’phone the Waldorf-Astoria,” said she.

“Seriously, Austin—­” said Mrs. Phelps, looking annoyed.

“Seriously, mater,” he met her distress comfortably, “you’ll stay here at the ranch-house.  I live here, you know.  Manz’ita’ll love to have you, and you’ll get the best meals you ever had since you were born!  This was certainly a corking thing for you to do, mother!” he broke off joyfully.  “And you’re looking awfully well!”

“I find you changed, Austin,” his mother said, with a delicate inflection that made the words significant.  “You’re brown, dear, and bigger, and—­heavier, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you say fat?” said Manzanita, with a little push for her affianced husband.  “He was an awfully pasty-looking thing when he came here,” she confided to his mother.  “But I fed him up, didn’t I, Aus?” And she rubbed her cheek against his head like a little friendly pony.

“And he’s going to marry her!” Mrs. Phelps said to herself, heartsick.  She felt suddenly old and discouraged and helpless; out of their zone of youth and love.  But on the heels of despair, her courage rose up again.  She would save Austin while there was yet time, if human power could do it.