Brandon of the Engineers

The sun had sunk behind the range when Clare Kenwardine stood, musing, on

a balcony of the house. Voices and footsteps reached her across the

roofs, for Santa Brigida was wakening from its afternoon sleep and the

traffic had begun again in the cooling streets. The girl listened

vacantly, as she grappled with questions that had grown more troublesome

of late.

The life she led often jarred, and yet she could find no escape. She

hoped she was not unnecessarily censorious and tried to argue that after

all there was no great harm in gambling, but rarely succeeded in

convincing herself. Then she had deliberately thrown in her lot with her

father's. When she first insisted on joining him in England, he had, for

her sake, as she now realized, discouraged the plan, but had since come

to depend upon her in many ways, and she could not leave him. Besides, it

was too late. She had made her choice and must stick to it.

Yet she rebelled against the feeling that she had brought a taint or

stigma upon herself. She had no women friends except the wives of one or

two Spanish officials whose reputation for honesty was not of the best;

the English and American women left her alone. Most of the men she met

she frankly disliked, and imagined that the formal respect they showed

her was due to her father's hints. Kenwardine's moral code was not

severe, but he saw that his guests preserved their manners. Clare had

heard the Spaniards call him muy caballero, and they knew the outward

points of a gentleman. While she pondered, he came out on the balcony.

"Brooding?" he said with a smile. "Well, it has been very dull lately and

we need cheering up. Suppose you send Mr. Fuller a note and ask him to

dinner to-morrow? He's sometimes amusing and I think you like him."

Clare braced herself for a struggle, for it was seldom she refused her

father's request.

"Yes," she said, "I like him, but it would be better if he didn't come."

Kenwardine gave her a keen glance, but although he felt some surprise did

not try to hide his understanding of what she meant.

"It looks as if you knew something about what happened on his last

visit."

"I do," Clare answered. "It was rather a shock."

"One mustn't exaggerate the importance of these things," Kenwardine

remarked in an indulgent tone. "It's difficult to avoid getting a jar now

and then, though I've tried to shield you as much as possible. Fuller's

young and high-spirited, and you really mustn't judge his youthful

extravagance too severely."

"But don't you see you are admitting that he shouldn't come?" Clare

asked, with some color in her face. "He is young and inexperienced, and

your friends are men of the world. What is safe for them may be dangerous

for him."