“Not one. It’s pretty sad, Mrs. Blair.” “Sad? It’s worse than that.... Strikes me, though, Mr. Wansfell, you must be family and friends and all to that girl.... And let a mother tell you what a noble thing you’ve done--to give three years of your life to an orphan!” “What I did was good for me. Better than anything I ever did before,” replied Adam, earnestly. “I’d go on if it were possible. But Genie needs a home, young people, work, to learn and live her life. And I--I must go back to the desert.” “Ah! So that’s it!” exclaimed the woman, nodding. “My husband spoke just like you do. He took to the desert--sold my farm to get money to work his gold claims. Always he had to go back to the desert.... And now he’ll never come home again.” “Yes, the desert claims many men. But I could and would sacrifice whatever the desert means to me, for Genie’s sake, if it--if there was not a reason which makes that impossible.” “And now you’re hunting a home for her?” “Yes.” “She’s well educated, you said?” “Her mother was a school-teacher.” “Then she could teach children.... Things work out strangely in life, don’t they? My Betty might be left alone. Any girl may become an orphan.” “Now, Mrs. Blair, will you be so kind as to take Genie, or go with us into town, and help us get some clothes for her? A few simple dresses and things she needs. I’d be helpless. And Genie knows so little. She ought to have a woman go with her.” “Indeed she shall have,” declared Mrs. Blair. “I’ll be only too glad to go. I need some things----” Then she struck her forehead with a plump hand. “I’ve a better idea. There’s not much to be bought in the store at Santa Ysabel. But my neighbor up the valley--his name is Hunt--he has a granddaughter. They’re city folks. They’ve been somebody once. This granddaughter is older than Genie--she’s more of a woman’s figure--and I heard her say only the other day that she brought a lot of outgrown dresses with her and didn’t know what to do with them. All her clothes are fine--not like you buy out here.... I’ll take Genie over there right this minute!” Mrs. Blair got up and began to untie her apron. Kindliness beamed upon her countenance and she seemed to have acquired a more thoughtful eye. “You’re good indeed,” said Adam, gratefully. “I thank you. It will be so much nicer for Genie. She dreaded this matter of clothes. You can tell Miss Hunt I’d be glad to pay----” “Shucks! She wouldn’t take your money. She’s quality, I told you. And her name’s not Hunt. That’s her grandfather’s name. I don’t know what hers is--except he calls her Ruth.” Ruth! The sudden mention of that name seemed to Adam like a stab. What a queer, inexplicable sensation followed it! “I’ll be right out,” declared Mrs. Blair, bustling into the house. Adam called Genie to him and explained what was to happen. She grew radiant.