Stanton swept off his hat and flung open the tonneau door, his eyes lighting up. Bradford drew a step nearer and stopped, watchful for a sign. The two men servants were like statues ready to be galvanized into action. Steele, watching it all, gave unhidden signs of amused interest.
"Miss Corliss!" cried Booth Stanton warmly, his hand out to the veiled occupant of the car. "It's wonderful to have you back with us."
Steele interestedly awaited her return greetings. His lips twitched as she answered.
"I am always glad to get back."
Her voice was cool, confident and if not actually arrogant at least studiously aloof. She nodded to Stanton, disregarding his hand which, while Stanton flushed, did its duty at the car's door. She seemed to take no note of Bradford or the other servants. A neatly booted foot appeared under her blue travelling suit, she stepped down and ran up the granite blocks to the porch. Here she paused, putting up her hands to her veil.
"Parker was late at the train," she said in the same cool voice. "I can't tolerate that sort of thing you know, Stanton. You will fine him for negligence and if he objects get me another driver in his place."
Steele for the first time saw her face and forgot for the moment to look to Parker or Stanton for the effect of her words. He had heard much of the beauty of this last Corliss, but accepted such reports as he did many others concerning the Queen's Ranch, with a grain of salt. Now, as she was swallowed up by the big double
