He was a man of quick temper, and had the Western ideas of redress.

Perhaps even now she was precipitating a duel between them.

Her cheeks grew wan again, her breath came quickly, tears gathered in her eyes.

Oh, she was a dreadful girl, she knew it; she was an utterly miserable one, and she knew that too! The reins were tightened.

The pace lessened and at last fell to a walk.
Conscious of her telltale eyes and troubled face, she dared not turn to her companion to ask him why, but glanced across the fields.
"When you first came I didn't get to know your name, Miss Mallory, but I reckon I know your father." Her father! What made him say that?
She wanted to speak, but she felt she could not.