from Noo York," and had begged that Sheila be allowed to share her
own red, white, and blue boudoir below. But Sheila had preferred her
small room. It was red as a rose at sunset, still and high, remote from
Millings, and it faced The Hill.

Now, the gaslight flared against the bare walls and ceiling. Sheila's
hat and coat and muff lay on the bed where she had thrown them. She
stood, looking at Babe. Her face was flushed, her eyes gleamed, that
slight exaggeration of her chin was more pronounced than usual.

Babe put her head on one side. "Oh, say, Sheila, why bother about Dickie.
Nobody cares about Dickie. He'll get a proper bawlin'-out from Poppa
to-morrow. But I'd think myself simple to be scared by him. He's
harmless. The poor kid can't half help himself now. He got started when
he was awful young."

"Oh," said Sheila, as sharply as before, stopping before Babe, "I'm not
frightened. I'm angry--angry at myself. I _like_ Dickie. I like him!"

Babe's lips fell apart. She sat down in the accordion-plaited chair and
rocked. A squealing, shaking noise accompanied the motion. Her fingers
sought and found against the chair-back a piece of chewing-gum which she
had stuck there during her last visit to Sheila. Babe hid and resurrected
chewing-gum as instinctively as a dog hides and resurrects his bones.

"I can _see_ you likin' Dickie," she remarked ironically.

"But I do, I tell you! He was sweet. He didn't say a word or do a thing
to frighten me--"

"But he was full, Shee, you know he was."

"Yes. He'd been drinking. I smelt it. And he didn't walk very straight,
and he was a little mixed in his speech. But, all the same, he was as
good as gold. And friendly and nice. I might have walked home quietly
with him and sent him away at the door. And he wouldn't have been seen by
his father." Sheila's eyes filled. "It was dreadful--to--to knock him
down the steps!"

"Say, if you'd had as much to put up with from Dickie as Poppa's had--"

"Oh," said Sheila in a tone that welled up as from under a weight, "if I
had always lived in Millings, I'd drink myself!"

Babe looked red and resentful, but Sheila's voice rushed on.

"That saloon is the only interesting and attractive place in town. The
only thrilling people that ever come here go in through those doors. I've
seen some wonderful-looking men. I'd like to paint them. I've made some
drawings of them--men from over there back of the mountains."

"You mean the cowboys f