A few days after the departure of Trujillo, Virginia remarked one
morning at breakfast, “Barbara, I feel much as you did when you were
with us at V. M., a great anxiety, which I cannot understand, to
return home and see if all is well with Malcolm. The truth is I have
been away from him and from dear old Uncle Tex for so many, many
months, that I feel sure they were sorry to have me desert them,
and, so, if Margaret and Betsy are willing, I think we would better
return to V. M. today.”
The pretty face of Babs plainly showed her disappointment, and
Virginia hastened to add, “Won’t you come with us, Barbara, or, if
not that, perhaps, Betsy would like to make you a longer visit here
at Three Cross.”
A sudden hopeful brightening in the blue eyes of Barbara brought
from her dear friend Betsy an immediate acceptance of the plan, and,
so, an hour later, that they might start before the sun was high,
the two who were departing bade goodbye to the three who were to
remain and rode away, looking back often to wave and smile.
When at last they had crossed the ridge which hid the Three Cross
Ranch from their view and were riding along the level desert,
Margaret looked anxiously, inquiringly at her friend.
“Dear, you seem very thoughtful. Are you troubled about anything in
particular?”
The questioner was more than ever puzzled when she saw the morning
glow in the truly beautiful face that was turned toward her.
“No, sister of mine, I was thinking of something very wonderful, but
just for a time it must be my secret.”
Virginia was recalling an hour that she and Peyton had spent alone
the evening before, sitting on a huge boulder that was near the
ranch house. It had been a gloriously moonlighted night, and, for a
long time, they had remained silent, just content, it would seem, to
be together in that truest and rarest of all forms of comradeship.
Then quietly Virg had led Peyton to talk of his ranch, his interest,
and of what he had done while she had been away.
Somehow, in the magic of the loveliness all about them, it had
seemed but natural that the lad should tell her of his love.
“May I hope, Virginia, that some day, you will be here with
me,—with us?” And Virginia’s reply had been seriously given. “Ask
me that again when I am eighteen, will you Peyton?”
And with that answer the lad had to be content, but in it he found
much to cause him to rejoice; much that gave him hope.
It was a strange coincidence, that, at that moment, as Virginia was
thinking over the conversation of the night before, Megsy should
ask, “Virg, who do you suppose will be the first girl of our
acquaintance to marry?”
Her companion smiled, “Why dear, I don’t know,” she replied. “Babs
and Betsy are far too young, some way, to even think of such things.
Betsy declares that she is to be wedded to her career and Barbara,
though she likes Benjy Wilson has not as yet even thought of
romance.”
“Well, I am sure it will not be me.” Virg thought she heard Margaret
sigh and this puzzled her. Quick was her response. “I’m not so sure
of that, Megsy. You are so sweet and lovable, I know you will be
stolen away from me long before I am ready to lose you.” Then, as
they reached the top of the mesa, she continued happily, “Oh, how
good it is to see V. M. Ranch again. This time I do hope that
brother of mine will be at home to greet us. I have had so much
change and recreation this past year that I actually feel guilty. It
has been all work and responsibility for Malcolm.”
“I have a plan to suggest,” Megsy said. “Let’s insist that Malcolm
take a two weeks’ vacation and go away somewhere so isolated that he
could not possibly receive there a message about the ranch.”
Virg shook her head. “I don’t believe that we could persuade my
brother to go,” she replied.
“I’m going to try,” was Margaret’s quiet response.