Major Randolph's figure of the "life-blood of the ranch" flashed across
her suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly appliances
by which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long summer droughts.
She only vaguely guessed that the dreadful earthquake had struck at the
prosperity of those people whom only a few hours ago she had been proud
to call her friends. The underlying goodness of her nature was touched.
Should she let a momentary fault--if it were not really, after all,
only a misunderstanding--rise between her and them at such a moment? She
turned and hurried quickly towards the house.
Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also why
these common men--she now included even the young inventor in that
category--were all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never before
been treated in this way; she had always been rather embarrassed by the
admiring attentions of young men (clerks and collegians) in her Atlantic
home, and, of professional men (merchants and stockbrokers) in San
Francisco.
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