“Virg,” Malcolm blurted out, “I feel that we are not doing right to treat a lonely orphan girl in this fashion. I am positive that I heard her crying in her room just now. I know it is premature, and not at all according to our plans, but I do wish you would go in and comfort her. Tell her the whole truth, Sis, and if she doesn’t want to stay with us, I’ll write back to that eastern seminary and see what can be done.”
Virginia looked at her brother with laughing eyes, but they quickly sobered as she said, “I agree with you, Malcolm. I believe that we have made a mistake. The truth is always best after all. Suppose you go to your room now and reappear just yourself.”
The lad went away whistling. Somehow, he felt happier than he had in many a day.
Virginia tapped lightly on the closed door of the big sunny southwest room to which she had taken their ward immediately upon their arrival at V. M. A half sob accompanied the words, barely heard by the listener. “Come in.”
On the bed Margaret had thrown herself in an abandon of grief. Virginia knelt by her side and said compassionately, “Margaret dear, don’t cry this way. Was it so very hard for you to come to us?”
“Ye-es. Next to losing father it was the hardest thing I ever had to face,” was the broken reply that came from the depths of a pillow. “But forgive me, if I seem ungrateful. Mr. Wallace has been telling me that Mr. Davis did not send for me from unkind motives, and so I have changed my mind. Tell him, please, that I am not going to be rebellious and that I’ll try to be cheerful and bring a little sunshine into his home. He must be a very lonely old man and he was kind to my father.”
Tears were brimming Virginia’s eyes. “Dearie,” she said, “lie here and rest for an hour, but when you hear the Chinese gong, come out to dinner. A pleasant surprise will be awaiting you. At least I hope that you will like it.”
“Thank you,” Margaret said without lifting her head from her pillow. She felt too dead inside to care about surprises. Nothing mattered if she had to remain on this desolate desert. The only surprise that could interest her would be the news that she might return to Vine Haven and to Babs.
However, the words of the housekeeper had soothed her more than she realized. Her sobbing soon ceased and she actually fell into a light slumber from which she awakened refreshed.
Rising, she washed away the tear stains and brushing her short gold-brown curls, she fastened them back with a wide barette.
Then she went out into the big, pleasant, homey living-room, but no one was there. Suddenly recalling the promised surprise, she was wondering what it would be, when a door, leading out upon a wide veranda, opened and a young girl entered followed by a tall, good-looking lad.
They approached the astonished ward and, Virginia, holding out both hands, said impulsively, “Margaret, can you ever forgive us for play actin’, as Uncle Tex called it. Your guardian isn’t an old man. He is my brother, Malcolm. I just don’t know how to go about explaining it,” she looked rather helplessly at the lad.
“I’ll do it, Sis,” he said. “Margaret, the truth is that you wrote such—such—” even Malcolm was at a loss how to tell the tale.
“Such horrid, disagreeable letters,” his ward put in, a dimple appearing as she smiled, “that you were sure you wouldn’t want to keep me. I don’t blame you a bit!” she declared vehemently. Then she surprised them both by impulsively kissing Virginia and saying:
“I just know that I’m going to be happy with you. It will be like having a sister, a really and truly one, won’t it?”
“Hum-m!” said Malcolm with mock seriousness, “You aren’t so pleased to have a really, truly brother it would seem.”
Then, when the girl flashed a smile at him, he added, “However I refuse to be your brother. I shall remain your stern guardian. Aren’t you skeered of me, as Uncle Tex says.”
The lad’s tanned face was so good-looking and pleasant, his grey eyes so frank and merry that his ward laughingly shook her head as she happily replied:
“I’m not skeered the least bit. I just know that I’m going to love you both.”
That evening the three young people sat around the fireplace and had a most delightful get-acquainted visit. Virginia told Margaret about the stage-fright which had caused Uncle Tex to depart with speed to the mountains.
“He won’t be back for a week, I’ll wager,” Malcolm laughingly declared.
Then Margaret asked: “Virginia, what did you expect me to look like?”
The other girl smiled but shook her head. “Don’t ask me,” she pleaded. “The picture in my imagination was so different from the real you, it would be a sacrilege to tell it.”
The dimple again appeared, but it was a somber Margaret who replied. “I don’t blame you for thinking me just horrid, but I did so want to remain at boarding school with Babs.” Then turning to Virginia she asked:
“Haven’t you ever had a yearning to go east to school?” Malcolm glanced quickly at his sister, who was gazing almost wistfully into the fire. It was a long moment before she replied, then she said:
“Yes, Margaret, I did want to go. In fact I had my trunk packed and was to have started the next day for a seminary in the East, just out of New York, when father was taken ill. How glad I am that I had not already departed, for no one thought dad’s illness would be serious and they would not have sent for me. He left us one week from that day.” Then placing a loving hand on the arm of her brother who sat near, she added, “Malcolm was planning to attend a military academy that winter, but when dad was gone, brother’s presence was needed here on the ranch and I just couldn’t go and leave him alone.”
Tears sprang to the eyes of Margaret. All her life she had been petted and pampered, as she had been an only child and so she had not learned the joy of that self-sacrifice which she now saw shining in the violet-blue eyes of her new friend.
Not wishing to sadden their ward, Virginia sprang up and poked at the fire. “Dance, little flames,” she said merrily, “and show our guest how prettily a mesquite root can burn.”
“Please don’t call me a guest,” Margaret begged impulsively. “I want to be home folks. It’s so long since I had a real home.” She had risen and had placed an arm about the western girl who still stood looking down at the fire. As Malcolm watched them, he thought that nowhere could two more lovely girls be found although they were very unlike each other.
The grandfather clock was soon telling the hour of nine, which was bed-time for the dwellers of V. M. Ranch. The lad rose and placed a wire screen in front of the fire as he said gaily: “Girls, don’t despair of getting an ‘iddication,’ as Uncle Tex calls it. Most anytime we may find a paying mine. I am convinced that there is one in these mountains, and when it is found, three trunks will be packed and we will all depart for the centers of learning.” Then, to Virginia, he added, “Margaret will want to sleep late, for I am sure that she is unusually tired after that long hard journey, and, just for the luxury of it, suppose you sleep too. I’ll get my own breakfast. I want to reach the Slater Ranch soon after sunrise to hand in my report about the cattle that I delivered in Chicago.”
Long after Margaret was in her comfortable bed, she lay awake wondering what life on the desert was to hold for her, but it was to be more interesting and exciting than even her wildest dreams could picture.