be wrong, provided it went no further?  Alaire had been repelled by Luis Longorio’s evident love for her, but a similar emotion in this man’s breast had quite the opposite effect.  She was eager for friendship, hungry for affection, starved for that worship which every woman lives upon.  Having a wholesome confidence in her own strength of character, and complete faith in Law’s sense of honor, she was neither alarmed nor offended.

For the first time in years she allowed her intimate thoughts free expression, and spoke of her hopes, her interests, and her efforts; under the spell of the moonlight she even confided something about those dreams that kept her company and robbed her world of its sordidness.  Dave Law discovered that she lived in a fanciful land of unrealities, and the glimpse he gained of it was delightful.

Supper was waiting when they arrived at Las Palmas, and Dolores announced that “Young Ed” had telephoned from the Lewis ranch that he would not be home.  Yielding to a sudden impulse, Alaire said to her companion: 

“You must dine with me.  Dolores will show you to a room.  I will be ready in half an hour.”

Dave hesitated, but it was not in human nature to refuse.  Later, as he washed himself and combed his hair, he had a moment of misgivings; but the next instant he asked himself wherein he was doing wrong.  Surely there was no law which denied him the right to love, provided he kept that love a secret.  The inner voice did not argue with him; yet he was disquieted and restless as he paced the big living-room, waiting for his hostess.

The Austin ranch-house offered a contrast to the majority of Texas country homes.  “Young Ed” had built almost a mansion for his bride, and in the latter years Alaire had remodeled and changed it to suit her own ideas.  The verandas were wide, the rooms large and cool and open; polished floors, brilliant grass mats, and easy wicker furniture gave it a further airiness.  The place was comfortable, luxurious; yet it was a home and it had an atmosphere.

Not for many years had Dave Law been a guest amid such surroundings, and as the moments dragged on he began to feel more and more out of place.  With growing discomfort he realized that the mistress of this residence was the richest woman in all this part of Texas, and that he was little better than a tramp.  His free life, his lack of care and responsibility, had bred in him a certain contempt for money; nevertheless, when through the door to the dining-room he saw Alaire pause to give a final touch to the table, he was tempted to beat an ignominious retreat, for she was a radiant vision in evening dress.  She was stately, beautiful; her hair was worn high, her arms were bare underneath a shimmer of lace, her gown exposed a throat round and smooth and adorable.  In reality, she was simply clad; but to the Ranger’s untrained eye she seemed regal, and his own rough clothes became painfully conspicuous by contrast.