LEE VIRGINIA was not entirely without experience as regards respectful
courtship. Her life in the East had brought her to know a number of
attractive lads and a few men, but none of these had become more than good
companions, or friends; and though she wrote to one or two of these youths
letters of the utmost friendliness, there was no passion in them, and she
felt, as yet, the sting of nothing more intense in her liking for
Cavanagh; but he meant more to her, now that she was lonely and
beleaguered of those whose eyes were cruel and hot.
Then, too, he had come to represent a new world to her--this world of the
forest, this region toward the sunset, which was quite as mysterious to
her thinking as it was to the eyes of any plains-dweller. Her imagination
went with the ranger on his solitary march into those vague, up-billowing
masses of rocks and trees. To her there were many dangers, and she
wondered at his courage, his hardihood.
That he had ridden all that long, rough way merely to see her she was not
vain enough to believe; but she had, nevertheless, something of every
woman's secret belief in her individual charm. Cavanagh had shown a
flattering interest in her, and his wish to be her protector filled her
with joy and confidence.
She heard a good deal more about this particular forest ranger next
morning at breakfast. "He is throwing himself away," Mrs. Redfield
passionately declared. "Think of a man of Ross's refinement living in a
mountain shack miles from anybody, watching poachers, marking trees, and
cooking his own food. It's a shameful waste of genius."
"That's as you look at it, my dear," responded Redfield. "Ross is the
guardian of an immense treasure-chest which belongs to the nation.
Furthermore, he is quite certain--as I am--that this Forest Service is the
policy of the future, and that it offers fine chances for promotion--and
then, finally, he likes it."
"That is all well enough for a young man; but Ross is at least
thirty-five, and should be thinking of settling down. I can't understand
his point of view."
"My dear, you have never seen the procession of the seasons from such a
point of view as that which he enjoys."
"No, and I do not care to. It is quite lonely enough for me right here."
Redfield looked at Lee with comic blankness. "Mrs. Redfield is hopelessly
urban. As the wife of a forest supervisor, she cares more for pavements
and tram-cars than for the most splendid mountain park."
"I most certainly do," his wife vigorously agreed. "And if I had my way we
should be living in London."
"Listen to that! She's ten times more English than Mrs. Enderby."
"I'm not; but I long for the civilized instead of the wild. I like comfort
and society."
"So do I," returned he.
"Yes; the comfort of an easy-chair on the porch and the society of your
forest rangers. This ranch life is all very well for a summer outing, but
to be tied down here all the year round is to be denied one's birthright
as a modern."
All this more or less cheerful complaint expressed the minds of many
others who live amid these superb scenes. When autumn comes, when the sky
is gray and the peaks are hid in mist, they long for the music, the
lights, the comfort of the city; but when the April sun begins to go down
in a smother of crimson and flame, and the mountains loom with epic
dignity, or when at dawn the air is like some divine flood descending from
the unstained mysterious heights, then the dweller in the foot-hills cries
out: "How fortunate we are! Here is health and happiness! Here poverty is
unknown!" One side of the girl was of this strain, the other was of the
character described by her hostess. She began to see that Ross Cavanagh
was fitted for higher duties than those of forest guard.
Mrs. Redfield was becoming more and more interested in this child, who had
not merely the malodorous reputation of her mother to contend with, but
the memory of a traitorous sire to live down; and when Lee Virginia went
to her room to pack her bag, the wife turned to her husband and said:
"What are we to think of heredity when we see a thoroughly nice girl like
that rise out of the union of a desperado with a vixen?"
Redfield answered: "It is unaccountable. I knew her father well; he was a
reckless daredevil, with less real courage in him than there is in old
Lize; but I can't tell the girl that. She is sufficiently humiliated by
her mother; she takes comfort in the thought that her father at least was
brave and heroic."
"I don't believe in heredity as I did once," his wife resumed. "Aren't
scientific men rather divided about it?"
"Yes, there are those who deny that there is any inheritance of the
spirit, of character, insisting that the laws of transmission affect the
body only. Lee is certainly like her father in looks. He was a handsome
rascal."
"Ross is terribly smitten with her."
Redfield coughed, uneasily. "I hope not. Of course he admires her, as any
man must. She's physically attractive, very attractive, and, besides, Ross
is as susceptible as a cow-puncher. He was deeply impressed the first time
he saw her, I could see that."
"I didn't like his going out on the veranda with her last night,"
continued Mrs. Redfield, "and when they came in her eyes and color
indicated that he'd been saying something exciting to her. Hugh, Ross
Cavanagh must not get involved with that girl. It's your duty as his
superior to warn him."
"He's fully grown, my dear, and a bit dictatorial on his own part. I'm a
trifle timid about cutting in on his private affairs."
"Then I'll do it. Marriage with a girl like that is out of the question.
Think what his sisters would say."
Redfield smiled a bit satirically. "To the outsider a forest ranger at
$900 a year and find himself and horses is not what you may call a
brilliant catch."
"Oh, well, the outsider is no judge. Ross Cavanagh is a gentleman, and,
besides, he's sure to be promoted. I acknowledge the girl's charms, and I
don't understand it. When I think of her objectively as Lize Wetherford's
girl I wonder at her being in my house. When I see her I want her to stay
with me; I want to hug her."
"Perhaps we've been unjust to Lize all along," suggested Redfield. "She
has remained faithful to Ed Wetherford's memory all these years--that is
conceded. Doesn't that argue some unusual quality? How many women do we
know who are capable of such loyalty? Come, now! Lize is a rough piece of
goods, I'll admit, and her fly-bit lunch-counter was a public nuisance;
but she had the courage to send her girl away to be educated, denying
herself the joy of seeing her develop by her side. We mustn't permit our
prejudices to run away with us."
The girl's return put a stop to the discussion, which could end in nothing
but confusion anyway.
Lee Virginia said good-bye to Mrs. Redfield with grateful appreciation of
her kindness, and especially of her invitation to come again, and the
tears in her eyes profoundly affected the older woman, who, with a
friendliness which was something more than politeness, invited her to come
again. "Whenever Roaring Fork gets on your nerves we'll be very glad to
rescue you," she said in parting.
Hugh Redfield the girl thoroughly understood and loved, he was so
simple-hearted and so loyal. His bitter criticisms of the West were not
uttered in a destructive mood--quite the contrary. His work was
constructive in the highest degree. He was profoundly impatient of
America's shortcomings, for the reason that he deeply felt her
responsibility to the rest of the world. His knowledge of other republics
and "limited monarchies" gave his suggestions power and penetration; and
even Bridges, besotted in his provincial selfishness, had advised his
selection as Supervisor. Of his own fitness for the work, Redfield himself
took a dispassionate view. "I am only filling the place till the right man
comes along," he said to his friends. "The man before me was a
half-hearted and shifty advocate. I am an enthusiast without special
training; by-and-by the real forester will come to take my place."
On the way to the office, he said to Lee: "I will talk to the doctor if
you like."
"I wish you would," she responded, fervently.
She remained in the machine while he went in, and as she sat there a train
passed on its downward eastward run, and a feeling of loneliness, of
helplessness, filled her heart. She had written many brave letters to her
Eastern friends, but the vital contests, the important factors of her
life, she had not mentioned. She had given no hint of her mother's
physical and moral degeneration, and she had set down no word of her
longing to return; but now that she was within sight of the railway the
call of the East, the temptation to escape all her discomforts, was almost
great enough to carry her away; but into her mind came the thought of the
ranger riding his solitary way, and she turned her face to her own duties
once more, comforted by the words of praise he had spoken and by the blaze
of admiration in his eyes.
Redfield came out, followed by a small man carrying a neat bag. He was of
surpassing ugliness, and yet she liked him. His mouth had a curious twist.
He had no chin to speak of, and his bright eyes protruded like those of a
beetle. His voice, however, was surprisingly fine and resonant.
"You'd better sit behind, Doctor," said Redfield. "I shall be very busy on
this trip."
"Very well," replied the other, "if Miss Wetherford remains beside me;
otherwise I shall rebel." He was of those small, plain men whose absurd
gallantry is never taken seriously by women, and yet is something more
than pretence.
He began by asking a few questions about her mother's way of life, but as
Lee was not very explicit, he became impersonal, and talked of whatsoever
came into his mind--motor-cars, irrigation, hunting, flowers--anything at
all; and the girl had nothing to do but to utter an occasional phrase to
show that she was listening. It was all rather depressing to her, for she
could not understand how a man so garrulous could be a good physician. She
was quite sure her mother would not treat him with the slightest respect.
After all, he talked well. His stream of conversation shortened the way
for her, and she was surprised when they topped the last ridge and the
Fork could be seen lying before them in the valley. Soon they were rolling
quietly up the street to the door of the Wetherford House.
Springing out unaided, Lee hurried in, hoping to prepare her mother for
the shock of the little physician's unimposing appearance, while Redfield
remained behind to arm the physician for his encounter. "Now, Doctor, Mrs.
Wetherford is a very singular and plain-spoken person. She's quite likely
to swear like a man, but she will perform like a woman. Don't mind what
she says; go ahead in your own way. Will you wait till after dinner, or
shall I--"
"No, I shall make the examination first--while I'm hungry. My mind works
quicker. I can't diagnose properly on a full stomach."
"Very well; line up with me, and together we'll beard the old grizzly in
her den."
They found Lize on duty behind the counter as usual. Her face was
dejected, her eyes dull, but as she caught sight of the strange little
man, she cried out: "Lord God, Reddy, why didn't you bring me a _man_?"
"Hush, mother," cautioned Lee, "this is the famous Eastern physician."
"You can't be famous for your beauty--you must be brainy," she remarked to
herself in the stranger's hearing.