Under Major Buford's invitation he called now and again at the Halfway Ranch, and the major was gladder each time to see him, for he valued the society of one whose experiences ran somewhat parallel with his own, and whose preferences were kindred to those of his natural class; and, moreover, there was always a strange comradery among those whose problems were the same, the "neighbours" of the sparsely settled West.
Mrs.Buford also received Franklin with pleasure, and Mary Ellen certainly always with politeness.

Yet, fatal sign, Mary Ellen never ran for her mirror when she knew that Franklin was coming.

He was but one of the many who came to the Halfway House; and Franklin, after more than one quiet repulse, began to know that this was an indifference grounded deeper than the strange haughtiness which came to be assumed by so many women of the almost womanless West, who found themselves in a land where the irreverent law of supply and demand assigned to them a sudden value.
Of lovers Mary Ellen would hear of none, and this was Franklin's sole consolation.

Yet all day as he laboured there was present in his subconsciousness the personality of this proud and sweet-faced girl.
Her name was spelled large upon the sky, was voiced by all the birds.
It was indeed her face that looked up from the printed page.

He dared not hope, and yet shrunk from the thought that he must not, knowing what lethargy must else ingulf his soul.