"If only you had told me—I would have arranged the loan for you through my father sooner than this. What must Bob think of you! And he has not even hinted it to me."
"I can give it back," said Ben finally, in a kind of sullen contrition; not because he thought he had made a mistake, but because Nan, for these incomprehensible reasons, thought he had.
"No, it is done. You would as well keep it."
"Don't be mad at me!"
"I'm not 'mad'—I'm disappointed."
Ben, who had ridden to Las Rubertas prideful and elated over his ambitious venture, rode back to the Longhorn bosque crestfallen by Nan's disapproval, while Nan, in her sensitive pride, all but writhed as she tried to imagine Bob's opinion of Ben.
It could be nothing less than the mild contempt a man like Bob would feel for an inferior when that person acted as such. She was ashamed for Ben, and fearful that Bob would see her shame.
Nan knew well enough that Bob's seeming blindness to Ben's persistent sulkiness and
