# The Rose Dawn/Chapter 11
### CHAPTER XI
#### I

ABOUT eight o'clock that evening Daphne raised her head at the sound of footsteps; listened a moment; and then, with a look of concern on her face, laid aside her sewing and glided out through the door. She met Kenneth at the foot of the veranda steps, and without a word took his arm and led him out of the path of the lamplight to the head of the lower terrace. There she forced him to sit beside her. She gathered his head to her breast, and held him close, saying nothing. At first every fibre of his body was tense, but after a while his muscles began slowly to relax. He drew a long, shuddering breath and sat up.
"Daffy," he demanded, intensely, "will you marry me?"
"You know I will, sweetheart," she replied.
"I mean right away—now."
"This very night, if you want me to."
He sighed again, and in his turn drew her to him. She snuggled into the hollow of his arm.
"I feel better," he told her. "Daffy, you're such a comfort. You do know what to do. Oh, sweetheart, let's not wait for anything: let's get married, and get away from it, just us together!"
"At any time you say, dear."
"Daffy," he said solemnly, sitting up straight in order to give greater effect to his words. "I had no idea!—it was terrible to me! I can't tell you! Some day I will, but not now. I could not think that my own father—Daffy, I'm not going back there. He accused me—I couldn't believe it——"
"Never mind, dear. Don't try to talk about it. You did the right thing: nothing can change that. Come, let's walk down to Dolman's House and look up at the stars through the branches."
​"He ordered me out of the house," said Kenneth, in a strangled voice.
For a moment Daphne's form stiffened. Then resolutely she put all thought from her but the one of comfort.
"Don't think of any of it now. Leave it until to-morrow. Come let's walk."
They strolled down the gentle slope and across the field. Daphne took his arm in both hers, pressing close to him. It was the dark of the moon, but the starlight filled the cup of heaven-like mist. From near at hand and far away came the singing of frogs, exultant and joyous, falling instantly silent or breaking instantly out full strength, as though some supreme and omnipresent frog-leader had waved a baton. In the abrupt swift silences an owl spoke solemnly. Things not of the night, the simple beautiful peaceful night, such as the strivings and passions of men, seemed to settle to earth, as a veil that is cast flutters and sinks slowly and lies dead. In spite of himself Kenneth's high-leaping thoughts little by little lost their throb. The fever ebbed from his brain. His mind cleared as the sky clears of clouds. From the surface of his soul, stilled after the tempest, again reflected the stars.
Daphne seemed to have been waiting for and to sense this moment.
"You must keep one thought before you always, Ken dear," she said, "and that is that you have done right. And you must remember that your father has not consciously done wrong, because he really cannot see it is wrong. Now let's talk of of plans. The hard part is over now; remember that. But we must make it a success yet. It won't do to let the whole fail just for a little scheming at the last minute."
"Why, what do you mean?" asked Kenneth, his attention caught.
"Practical details: that's what I mean. I don't know anything about your business arrangements: I suppose you've made them. I'm interested. Don't you want to tell me about them?"
"What arrangements do you mean?"
"Why, as I understand it, you've put in a lot of money, and ​those dear ridiculous men have put in some, and nice old Sing Toy and his friends the rest. And you've bought the mortgage."
"Yes; that's it."
"Well, what are you going to do with it?"
"Why, just let it run, I suppose."
"And how about repayment?"
"I don't know. We'll have to fix that up. It will have to wait. I'll see that they are paid back some' day."
"And the Colonel?" suggested Daphne.
"What about him?"
"How are you going to explain to him?"
"Why do we have to explain to him at all?"
"Well, naturally, he is going to know that the mortgage has changed hands; and when he finds it is in your name—why, don't you see?"
"Good Lord! Of course! I am a dumbhead! He'll think this is part of the same old scheme! What can we do about it?"
"I don't know," confessed Daphne, "but it must be thought about."
"I should think so! I wish it hadn't been done in my name—but no, then it couldn't have been done at all. What shall we do, Daffy? Can't you do something? Yes, that's it. You can fix it. See him and reassure him. Tell him anything you want. Will you?"
"I'll think it over," agreed Daphne, slowly. "It will be difficult."
When they returned to the Bungalow it was very late. Townsend Brainerd was still reading by the student lamp. He had it in mind to utter an impatient reproof at young people's remaining out until this hour, but at Daphne's warning gesture and a look at Kenneth's face he closed his book and rose.
"You can lend Ken some night things, can't you, Dad? It's so late I tell him he had better stay with us to-night. He can sleep in the Cubby Hole: it's all made up."
"Surely; I'll get them," said Brainerd, moving his lank form with unwonted alacrity. He was in the current of events, and ​made a shrewd guess as to the nature of the trouble that had so evidently ravaged Kenneth.
The moment he had disappeared Kenneth turned eagerly to Daphne.
"Won't you promise to fix it up with the Colonel?" he pleaded. "You are the only one who can do it. Please promise!"
She looked at him considering, her head on one side.
"Will you let me arrange it entirely my own way? " she asked.
"Lord, yes."
"Well, I will. But not until after we are married."
"I think we ought to be married right away, then," stated Kenneth.
"I think so, too," she agreed, half mischievously, but with a hint of tenderness that caused Kenneth to seize her hungrily in his arms.
At this moment Brainerd returned from the back part of the house.
"Ahem!" he exclaimed from the doorway. "Can't you young people do enough spooning elsewhere? Consider my age and dignity and spare my blushes."
They turned to face him, Kenneth a trifle embarrassed, but Daphne laughing.
"Father," she said, "we are going to drive into town to-morrow, get a license, and be married."
"Just like that!" said Brainerd. "Let me sit down and get this clear. To-morrow, you said. I hope not before nine o'clock: I hate to get up too early." He looked them over. "Are you in on these arrangements?" he asked Kenneth, politely, "or are they the sole idea of my daughter?" But his scrutiny had inhibited any objections or adverse comment he may have intended to make. Brainerd had lived long and acquired wisdom in the process: and he knew a crisis when he saw it.
"That is Kenneth's business, not yours, sir," rejoined Daphne.
"I stand corrected. Then, I gather, no choir, no bridesmaids, no brass bands, no wedding dress?"
​"Nothing but you, Dad, to give me away."
"And of course no presents. Well that relieves my mind, anyway. At what time do you want me to show up, and where? I've got some manure to put on the apricots to-morrow, and I don't want to waste any more time than I have to."
"Then you don't object?"
"Object? Why should I? That's yours and Kenneth's business, not mine," paraphrased Brainerd.
"You are a dear! a gem of a father! You always do understand!" cried Daphne, casting herself upon him.
"She used to do this when she was a child," Brainerd explained to Kenneth over her shoulder, "and she doesn't know that she has grown. She hits you with all the lightsome abandon of a three-ton steam roller. And I'm hanged if I understand! But what matters that? Do I gather this is what you might call a secret, a clandestine wedding? Nobody to know? Not even the Colonel? It will break the Colonel's heart not to be at your wedding, Daffy."
"Oh, particularly not the Colonel!" cried Daphne. "That is part of it!"
"I see," returned Brainerd, gratefully. "Thank you for your explanation. It makes everything perfectly clear. But there's one thing I wish you'd done."
"What is that?"
"Why in blazes, if there's all this secrecy, didn't you elope? Then I'd have been able to manure my apricots."

#### II

Daphne's husband and father, by her insistence, dropped her at the Avenue of Palms and drove on to the Bungalow. She looked after them a moment, and then walked slowly and thoughtfully up the long rise that led to Corona del Monte. She found the Colonel seated on the top step of the veranda, his hat beside him, looking up rather vaguely into the tops of his great oaks. At sight of her he arose with his customary old-fashioned courtesy.
"Well, Puss!" he cried, "but this is a pleasure!"
​She settled herself on the top step and pulled him down beside her.
"Listen, godpapa, I am very serious," she said. "I have come to tell you something very important. I have been worrying about you a great deal, godpapa, and the ranch. No; listen! Don't interrupt! What you need here is a partner."
"A partner!" echoed the Colonel.
"Yes, a partner," went on Daphne rapidly, before he had a chance to say more. "A man who would bring enough capital to help the ranch out of debt: a man who knows the ranching business so he could take an active part in running it—you know very well there's more than you can do."
"Daffy, I don't think I could stand another man managing things after I've done it so long."
"He'd be a junior partner, of course. You would control just as you do now."
The Colonel shook his head doubtfully.
"You wouldn't find anybody nowadays who would work width my ideas. I am an old fogey."
"But if you could find some one; don't you think it's a good idea?"
"It's a good idea, Puss," acknowledged the Colonel, reluctantly. "I've thought of it a good many times myself. Perhaps I might find an active partner. But I am afraid of how it would work out. I'm getting a little old and tired, and I dislike the thought of fighting another man's ideas. Still, it would be a sensible way out, I suppose. But, Daffy dear, I am an old man; and lately all my hopes have been centred on two things. As long as I lived I wanted to keep the old ranch together just as it has always been, as your Aunt Allie and I lived in it and loved it in the old days. I feel that I want to keep the place for Aunt Allie as long as she needs it."
Daphne, puzzled at this speech, looked at him. But he continued placidly:
"I suppose that could be done with the right kind of a partner—if such a partner exists."
"I know just the man," said Daphne. "He would put in the money, and he would work under you as I said."
​"Who is he?" inquired the Colonel.
"I'll tell you pretty soon. But tell me first, would you consider selling an interest in the ranch to the right person on the right understanding? I mean as an idea?"
"I would if you wish it, Daffy," agreed the Colonel a little sadly.
"I!" cried Daphne. "Oh no, godpapa! I don't come in it at all! You make me feel so responsible! You shouldn't put it on me that way!"
"I don't mean it that way," said the Colonel, smiling at her panic. "It is very simple. It is only this: besides keeping the ranch for Allie as long as I lived, I had hoped to leave it to you when I died. And if somebody else owned a share of it, it complicated it so for you."
"I?" repeated Daphne. "I? Corona del Monte?"
"Who else, dear child: who else in all the world?" asked the Colonel gently. "I have no flesh and blood: and ever since that spring day when I came on you alone among the wildflowers so bravely facing the cattle, you have grown into my heart until you are more than flesh and blood could ever be. Why, dearie, I can't take the old ranch with me when I go, and to whom should it go but to the one I love best now in the world?"
Daphne clung to him, weeping a little. There were tears in the Colonel's eyes too, open and unashamed.
"So you see, dear, why I am such a cranky old codger; and why I have been so reluctant to do what I know is the sensible thing. And why I wish there were some other way. But I suppose there isn't," he sighed.
Daphne drew away from him. Her eyes were wet, but she did not dry them.
"Listen, godpapa!" she said solemnly. "We have joked half seriously many times about Dolman, and how I used to believe in him when I was a little girl. Last night I was down at Dolman's House with—with Ken; and something said to me—no it didn't say to me, it just welled up inside of me—anyway I was told to do what I did and what I am doing now. I could not see how it would work: I did not believe it would work. But I obeyed the telling. And what you have just said made it all ​clear. It was as if Dolman had really spoken; as I used to think he did when I was a little girl." She grasped his arm. "Godpapa, do you believe it could really be?"
The old man merely smiled and put his arm around her. Daphne knit her brows for a moment, then went on.
"The partner I meant is Kenneth. He has enough money from his mother's estate; and he wants to put it in the ranch, but he is afraid you might misunderstand."
At the mention of the name the Colonel stirred uneasily. His confidence in Kenneth personally was absolute; but who could tell what was in the background? He voiced his thought: a little apologetically.
"I knew you must feel that way, " said Daphne; "so did Kenneth. That is why I was so doubtful of what was told me last night. But what you have just told me makes it so plain. Ken loves Corona del Monte almost as much as you and I do; he would not for worlds do a thing of which you did not approve. And as for your second objection, that you want it to come to me as a whole—why, Ken and I were married this morning!"
She sprang to her feet in an uncontrollable burst of released excitement, pirouetted across the lawn in an abandon of joyous motion, and ended with a low curtsey before the astounded Colonel, skirts outheld in the tips of her fingers.
"Hurrah for Dolman! Good old Dolman!" she cried; and cast herself in her impetuous steam-roller fashion on the Colonel. "Oh, isn't it wonderful!"
But the Colonel had recovered from his first astonishment.
"Stop it! Sit up here and explain yourself!" he cried in mock vexation. "What do you mean?"
"Ken and I got married this morning," said Daphne from his shoulder, "and I didn't know why I did it that way; and now I know; and I do believe in Dolman; and he's a darling; and so are you, and aren't we all going to be happy now forever and ever, amen!"
The Colonel gave her a shake.
"Explain yourself!" he repeated, severely. "What do you mean getting married in that hasty fashion? Why did you do it? How could you, without letting me know?"
​"It was so father could manure his apricots," chanted Daphne, "and Dolman told me to do it that way and——"
"Heaven has cursed me with an imbecile godchild!" lamented the Colonel.
They talked it out, while the sun descended to gild the edge of the mountains; and Kenneth chafed and waited; and Brainerd, who was now fully in the current of events, wisely restrained him from going after Daphne and bodily ravishing her away.
"She is as eager to get back as you are to have her," warned Brainerd. "This is the crucial time. The whole success of the scheme depends on it." At last at about half past five he departed. He had himself arranged a trip to Los Angeles, and he must go to catch the train. There seemed to him considerable humour in the situation: he was marrying off his daughter, and then himself going on the wedding trip! Well, they were needed at home; and he was not; and they ought to have the Bungalow to themselves.
"What I advise you to do," he told Kenneth, "is to get busy and show how much of a cook you are," with which parting advice he drove away, leaving the young man to follow his suggestion.
Down at Corona del Monte the Colonel and Daphne came to an understanding of all the details on both sides. The old man seemed to have straightened and thrown off the burden of years. He became almost buoyant in talking of the future. Ken and I will do this: Ken and I will do that, was the burden of his song. The old vanished engaging enthusiasm that had been his returned to him. At one point he checked himself:
"There is one thing I want understood—no, I want it promised," he said earnestly. "As long as I am with you we will try to keep the old ranch as it is. But when I am gone: when it is completely yours and Ken's, I don't want any pious sentiment about it. I want it divided and sold, or developed in any way that seems best. Don't think I am such an old fool as I seem: I know we're old fogeys, the ranch and I. You must promise this!"
After a time it became dusk: and the Colonel started up with an exclamation.
​"Your husband will never forgive me!" he cried; and Daphne felt an odd thrill at the word. "You must run along. Come in and I'll give you some little gift to take him, just so the day will not pass unmarked by me. To-morrow I shall call upon you in state."
They turned in through the little hall to the sitting room where burned the student lamp. Daphne stopped short in the doorway with a startled gasp. She turned pale and seized convulsively the Colonel's arm.
"What is it, my dear?" he asked.
Daphne swallowed twice, and laughed a little uncertainly.
"Nothing; nothing," she disclaimed, but her eyes were still turned staring past the student lamp.
"But it must have been something," insisted the Colonel. He was smiling down on her; and somehow there seemed to be in his smile an understanding.
"Godpapa," Daphne was impelled to confess, "it sounds foolish and queer. But as I came into the doorway I looked across the table and there in the old Boston rocker, just for a second, I thought I saw Aunt Allie sitting as she used to. And she was so real! so very real!"
"You must not mind that, my dear," said the Colonel, gently. "Why, I've seen her there always."