“I think that love and friendship can make things easier, even on a lonely ranch in Southern California,” Ben replied. “The men are to have eternal freedom from airless offices and small clerkships, and to enjoy out-of-door lives, and revel in the possession of their ranches,” Hilda continued; “and the women are to do work to which they have never been accustomed at home, are to drudge and drudge day after day in an isolated place without a soul to talk to, and their only compensation is to love desperately. A pretty picture indeed! Oh, well, it is folly of me to talk of it, perfect folly, and to you of all people, Bob’s friend.” “Better to Bob’s friend than to Bob himself,” Ben said quietly. She glanced up at him. There was something so soft in his voice whenever he spoke of Robert. Hilda was touched. “You are anxious on Robert’s behalf?” she said. “Yes,” he answered simply. “I am.” They walked on in silence for a few minutes. “You see, we have been such close friends,” he said, “and I nursed him through a bad illness, and learned to look upon him as my own property. He came into my life, too, at a time when I was desolate. The world seemed a desert to me. But Bob held out his hand, and helped me along to a green place. I have found many green places since then.” “With such a close friendship as that, you must surely resent my presence out here,” Hilda said tentatively. “Yes,” he said staunchly, “I resent it most deeply, if you do not make him happy.” Hilda smiled. She liked his candour; she liked everything about him. They had reached the road which led up to her house. “Good-bye,” he said; “I won’t come in just now. I must make my way back whilst it is still fine. Tell Bob I’ll be in to-morrow.” She stood watching him for a moment, and then she went home. As she opened the door, her husband came forward to greet her, with a smile of love and welcome on his face. Everything was ready for her: the cloth was laid, the food was cooked, the kettle was boiling, there were fresh flowers on the table. “Oh, Robert,” she said warmly, “and you’ve done everything for me, and you so tired with the day’s trouble.” “Hush,” he said, smiling sadly, “the day’s trouble is past.” CHAPTER VI ATTRACTION AND REPULSION There were three days more of incessant rain and wind, and then the storm ceased, and the sun shone brightly. On the morning of the second fine day, a waggon drove up to Hilda’s house, and Holles got off, leaving Ben in charge of the horses. “We called in to see if we could do anything for you in the village,” he said, when Hilda opened the door to him. “I should be ever so much obliged if you would bring me a sack of flour,” she said; “I have just come to the end of my supply. Robert did not want to send our horses in yet. He says the roads are not safe.”