"This settles the question of your fortune.It's gone—vanished into scraps.You're a poor girl，now，with no glittering prospects，so what I'm going to say won't seem quite so sel？sh as it would otherwise.In fact，had these laces been perfect，they would have rendered me dumb.As it is，here stand two impecuniousa ones—you and I.Between us we haven't much more than enough to fry a fish，in solid cash，but among my encumbrances are a delightful little bungalowb，nicely furnished，and a lot of lemon trees that can be coaxed to buy us groceries and ordinary comforts.I'm a lonely fellow，Mildred，and I need a companion.Will you marry me，and look after that bungalow？"This extraordinary proposal was heard in breathless silence.The men were astounded，the girls delighted.Every eye turned curiously upon Mildred Travers，who regarded the big rancher with frank wonder，a wan smile upon her pallid features.
"You do not say you love me，"she suggested，striving through mild banter to cover her confusion.
"Well，isn't that implied？"he answered."No one would propose to a girl he didn't love，would he？""You have only known me two days.""Two days and seven hours.But mother endorsed you and I'll bank on her judgment.""When the mortgages come due，there won't be anybungalow，"she continued.
"Don't you believe it，"cried Runyon，earnestly."With you to work for，I'll make those tart old lemons pay the interest and a good income besides.In fact，if we live long enough，we may even manage to reduce the mortgages.You see，I've been extravagant and foolish，but it was because I had no aim in life.The minute you say 'yes，'I'm a reformed character."She shook her head and the smile faded from her face."Don't think me ungrateful，Mr.Runyon，"she saidquietly."Unusual and—and—peculiar—as this proposal is，I believe you are sincere in what you say.But you are in？uenced just now by pity for me and I assure you I am quite capable of earning my own living.""But—oh，Mildred—he's so lonely，"cried Patsy，impulsively.
"I'm sorry for that，"she said，"but it is not my fault.""It will be，though，if you refuse，"declared Runyon."I fear I must.""I see，"he said with a sigh."Mother endorsed you，but she didn't endorse me.You've heard some tough yarns about me—all true as gospela—and you're prejudiced.I don't know as I blame you.If I were a girl I'd hesitate to reform such a desperate character，I'm sure.But I've the notion there's the making of a decent fellow in me，if the right workman undertakes the job."She looked at him earnestly，now—very earnestly.In spiteof the squeakyb voice and the inopportune time he had chosen for such a serious proposal，there was an innate manliness and ingenuousness in his attitude，as he stood there unabashed and towering above the other men，that seemed to her admirable and impressive.Both Beth and Patsy were re？ecting that a girl might do much worse than to accept Bulwer Runyon as a mate.
Said Mildred，still speaking in the same quiet and composed voice：
"I will give you a positive answer in three days，Mr.Runyon.That delay is mere justice to us both.""Thank you，"he said."Shall we f u s s w i t hc thesetatteredd laces any longer？It hardly seems worth while."Now that the strain of the situation was removed they all began chattering volubly in order to give countenance to Mildred.Runyon seemed not to need such consideration.
Old Miguel had witnessed and overheard this scenefrom the background and his bright black eyes had roamed restlessly from the girl's face to Runyon's as if trying to read their true feelings.The discovery of the laces had not drawn any exclamation from the ancient ranchero，whose stolida expression nothing seemed able to disturb.As the others filed down the stairs and out of the recess in the wall，into the roomy nursery，old Miguel followed imperturbable and sereneb as ever.In the court he touched his hat to his master.
"I go now，Meest Weld？"he asked.
"Yes.Thank you，Miguel，for your help."
"I thank you，too，"said Mildred，stepping forward to take the Mexican's hand."I remember you well，Miguel.In the old days you often took care of me while my father and Se？or Cristoval talked.Don't you remember？"He nodded，his eyes ？xed full upon her face.
"Once a friend，always a friend，Miguel，"she continued brightly."Even to—day you have been trying to help me，and I am grateful.Some time we will have a good talk together about the old days."Then he went away，and if one who knew old MiguelZaloa could have followed him，his actions would have caused surprise.
First he wandered deep into the orange groves，where—when absolutely alone—he began muttering excitedly.Attimes he would kick his booteda foot viciouslyb against a tree—trunk，regardless of the impact that numbed his toes and sent a tingle up his legs.After a time this remarkable exhibit of passion subsided and for the period of half an hour he stood quite motionless，staring straight before him and seeing nothing.Then he started off through the groves，climbed the fence into the lane and marched away through miles and miles of the surrounding country.
It was growing dark when Miguel at last appeared at the quarters，growling at the men and ordering them to get into the groves and work.They marked his ill temper and took care not to arouse his further anger.In the morning he was up at daybreak and in more gentle mood directed the beginning ofthe day's labors.