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As to the girl herself, it seemed to all these devoted henchmen that she had grown suddenly older, graver, more dignified, almost careworn. On that very last day of all, when she had made a detailed visit to, and inspection of, every part of the big ranch, she had done so with a quiet, critical interest quite contrary to her usual careless gayety.

“This paddock needs attention, ‘boy.’ You mustn’t let things go to ruin while I’m away nor expect mother to look after them,” she had warned one ranchman, in a tone he had never heard her use before. Also, she had gone over his books with the man who now “plucked” the ostriches, whose feathers were such an important factor in the family income, and finding his accounts slightly incorrect had reprimanded him sharply.

It had been altogether another Jessica during these last days; but all felt her altered manner was due wholly to the grief of her home-leaving; and John Benton was not the only one of the devoted “boys” who considered her departure a mistake.