All through that most miserable day Hilda gave him the best of her sympathy and kindness; but even her best was poor of quality and scant of quantity, and it did not avail to rouse him from his despair. She was too new to Californian life to understand the whole meaning of the morning’s misfortune, and apart from this, her power of comforting lacked the glow and warmth of passionate attachment. Still, she gave to her uttermost farthing, but nothing she could do or say had the effect of helping him. He crouched by the fire, a broken man seemingly, now and again piling on the sumac-roots, and sometimes glancing at her as she passed to and fro busy with the affairs of their little household. She served the mid-day meal and urged him to break his fast, but he shook his head, and drew nearer to the fire. At about three o’clock, there was a lull in the storm, and the rain ceased. Hilda, who was feeling utterly wretched and perplexed, went out to the verandah and listened to the roar of the river, and saw a silver streak in the valley which two days before had been perfectly dry. She had laughed when she was told that the sandy waste yonder was the great river. Now, looking at it, she was seized with a strong desire to go down and stand near it, and she was just debating in her mind whether she could leave Robert, and whether she could get through the day without some kind of distraction,--no matter what, but something to brace her up a little,--when she saw a figure coming up the hill, and at once recognised Ben Overleigh. A strong feeling of relief and hope took possession of her. Ben would stay with Robert whilst she went out and saw what there was to be seen, and then she would come back refreshed in mind and body. He would know how to comfort Robert, and as for herself, she was quite conscious that she brightened up in his presence, and felt less hopeless too about this lonely ranch life when she remembered that he was a neighbor and their friend. “Well,” he said, greeting her, “and so you’ve seen a typical Californian rain-storm. I tell you, you are lucky to be on the hill. I shouldn’t wonder if there was a great deal of damage done in the valley. And the storm is not over yet. This is only a lull, but I thought I would just come over to see how things have been going with you. Where is Bob?” “Bob is inside, crouching over the fire,” she said. “He should take you down to see the river,” Ben said. “It is a tremendous sight.” “I half thought of going by myself,” she said gloomily, “if only for the sake of a little distraction. Bob is in trouble; we are both in trouble. The reservoir burst this morning.” “Good heavens!” said Ben, “and you talk of it as though your band-box had burst, and that was all.” She darted an indignant glance at him as he opened the door hastily and went into the house. He laid his hands heavily on Bob’s shoulders and said: “Cheer up, old man. I’ve come to smoke a pipe with you.”