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Updated: June 17, 2025
"I am sorry I had to make your mother's acquaintance under circumstances which, I fear, she will not even try to understand," he had said to Irene. "I am sure she will not credit me with unselfish motives." "Oh, Dave Mr. Elden, I mean that is you don't know how proud you don't know how much of a man you made me feel you are." She was flushed and excited. "Perhaps I shouldn't talk like this.
But after Dave had gone the editor called his business manager. "I guess we'll have to raise Elden to thirty dollars a week," said he. "He's so honest he embarrasses me, and I guess I need that kind of embarrassment, or I wouldn't be embarrassed."
Other fees were calling him, and he assured Doctor Hardy, what the latter quite well knew, that nothing more could be done for him at present. He would come again at any time if summoned by the young man, or if his professional duties should bring him into the neighborhood of the Elden ranch.
Perhaps, as they rode along the foothill trail, they were still journeying together down the long, strange trails of the future; dim, visionary, exquisite trails; rough, hard, cruel trails hidden in the merciful mirage of their young hopefulness. The shadows had deepened into darkness, and the infinite silence of the hills hung about them as they dropped from their saddles at the Elden door.
And was it remarkable that Irene Hardy should think at once of the firm of Conward & Elden? It was not. She had, indeed, been thinking of a member of that firm ever since the decision to move to the West.
For one perilous moment he was about to apologize for the mistake made in the darkness, but some wise instinct closed his lips. But he wondered why she had not corrected him. They were seated at breakfast when the senior Elden made his appearance. He had slept off his debauch and was as sober as a man in the throes of alcoholic appetite may be.
Irene was old enough to know that the ramparts of friendship are a poor defence when the artillery of passion is brought to bear; indeed, it is usually through those very ramparts that the assault is effected. And if she continued to trifle with Dave Elden Yes, trifle. She would be frank. She would not spare herself. She had been trifling with him.
"This agreement is in the name of Conward & Elden," he said. "This cheque is payable to Conward & Elden." He was addressing Conward. Conward's livid face had become white, and it was with difficulty he controlled his anger. "They are all printed that way," he explained. "I am going to have them endorsed over to me." "You are not," said Dave.
"I will Reenie," he whispered, and he was sure the colour that mounted in her cheeks held no tinge of displeasure. Elden lost no time in making his first call upon the Hardys. He had discussed the matter with Irene over the telephone. "We are hardly in order yet," she had explained. "We are in a chaos of house-furnishing, but you will be welcome.
But if it should fail we must take another course, which I hesitate to mention to you, but which may be necessary if we are to save her from this fatal infatuation. If our efforts to cause Irene to see Elden in his true light were to fail, and she were to discover those efforts, she would be more set in his favour than ever.
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