The Fighting Shepherdess - Page 116/231

"We don't see you often, Miss Prentice."

She showed no surprise at his action and extended her own hand without either alacrity or hesitancy as she replied briefly: "I seldom come to Prouty."

"I merely wished to say that if at any time we can accommodate you, do not hesitate to ask us." Mr. Wentz realized that he was laying himself open to an embarrassing reminder, and expected it, but Kate did not betray by so much as the flicker of an eyelid that she remembered when she had pleaded, not for money, but only for time to save herself from ruin.

"You are very kind." She bowed slightly.

"You are one of our most valued customers." Her reserve piqued him; it was a kind of challenge to his gallantry. "I hope--I trust you will allow us to show our appreciation in some way--if only a small favor."

"I don't need it."

"You are very fortunate to be in that position, the way times are at present. In that case," he smiled with the assurance of a man who had had his conquests, "I'll presume to ask one. We should be pleased--delighted to handle your entire account for you. You keep it--"

"In Omaha."

"Why not in Prouty?" ingratiatingly.

Kate did not answer immediately, but while she returned the gaze of his melting brown eyes steadily she received a swift impression that for some reason deposits would be particularly welcome. There had been no eagerness or anxiety to suggest it, yet she had the notion strongly that the bank needed the money. Perhaps, she reasoned swiftly, the suspicion was born merely of her now habitual distrust of motives; nevertheless, it was there, to become a fixed opinion.

While she seemed to deliberate, Mr. Wentz's thoughts were of a different nature. If she were not so tanned and wore the clothes of civilization--she had the features, and, by George! she had a figure! These interesting mental comments were interrupted by a sudden dilation of Kate's pupils as though from some sudden mental excitement. The gray iris grew luminous, he noticed, while her face was flooded with color, as though she had been startled.

"I will consider it."

The answer was noncommittal, but the graceful sweeping gesture with which he stroked his mustache as she departed was one of satisfaction. Mr. Wentz had a notion that after looking at him for all these years the young woman had just really seen him.

The banker returned to his desk, opened a drawer and extracted a small mirror, in which he regarded himself surreptitiously. What was it about him--what one thing in particular, he wondered, that was so compelling that even a woman like this Kate Prentice must relent at his first sign of interest? Was it his appearance or his personality?