Mexican, American were all the same to her in trouble or illness; and then she was nurse, doctor, peacemaker, helper.  She was good and noble, and there was not a child or grownup in Forlorn River who did not love and bless her.  But Mrs. Belding did not seem happy.  She was brooding, intense, deep, strong, eager for the happiness and welfare of others; and she was dominated by a worship of her daughter that was as strange as it was pathetic.  Mrs. Belding seldom smiled, and never laughed.  There was always a soft, sad, hurt look in her eyes.  Gale often wondered if there had been other tragedy in her life than the supposed loss of her father in the desert.  Perhaps it was the very unsolved nature of that loss which made it haunting.

Mrs. Belding heard Dick’s step as he entered the kitchen, and, looking up, greeted him.

“Mother,” began Dick, earnestly.  Belding called her that, and so did Ladd and Lash, but it was the first time for Dick.  “Mother —­I want to speak to you.”

The only indication Mrs. Belding gave of being started was in her eyes, which darkened, shadowed with multiplying thought.

“I love Nell,” went on Dick, simply, “and I want you to let me ask her to be my wife.”

Mrs. Belding’s face blanched to a deathly white.  Gale, thinking with surprise and concern that she was going to faint, moved quickly toward her, took her arm.

“Forgive me.  I was blunt....But I thought you knew.”

“I’ve known for a long time,” replied Mrs. Belding.  Her voice was steady, and there was no evidence of agitation except in her pallor.  “Then you—­you haven’t spoken to Nell?”

Dick laughed.  “I’ve been trying to get a chance to tell her.  I haven’t had it yet.  But she knows.  There are other ways besides speech.  And Mercedes has told her.  I hope, I almost believe Nell cares a little for me.”

“I’ve known that, too, for a long time,” said Mrs. Belding, low almost as a whisper.

“You know!” cried Dick, with a glow and rush of feeling.

“Dick, you must be very blind not to see what has been plain to all of us....I guess—­it couldn’t have been helped.  You’re a splendid fellow.  No wonder she loves you.”

“Mother!  You’ll give her to me?”

She drew him to the light and looked with strange, piercing intentness into his face.  Gale had never dreamed a woman’s eyes could hold such a world of thought and feeling.  It seemed all the sweetness of life was there, and all the pain.

“Do you love her?” she asked.

“With all my heart.”

“You want to marry her?”

“Ah, I want to!  As much as I want to live and work for her.”

“When would you marry her?”

“Why!...Just as soon as she will do it.  To-morrow!” Dick gave a wild, exultant little laugh.

“Dick Gale, you want my Nell?  You love her just as she is—­her sweetness—­her goodness?  Just herself, body and soul?...There’s nothing could change you—­nothing?”