ls and cheap straw hats, the flaxen-haired children in faded
cottonade and blue denims. They filled nearly half the seats. Several
drummers came in, laughing loudly, bearing heavy valises. Then Allen
heard above the noise the shrill but sweet voice of a girl, and caught
the odor of violets as two persons passed him and took a seat just
before him.

The man he knew by sight and reputation as a very brilliant young
lawyer, Edward Benson, of Heron Lake. The girl he knew instantly to be
utterly alien to this land and people. She was like a tropic bird seen
amid the scant foliage of northern hills. There was evidence of great
care and taste in every fold of her modish dress. Her hat was simple but
in the latest city fashion, and her gloves were spotless. She gave off
an odor of cleanliness and beauty.

She was very young and slender. Her face was piquant but not
intellectual, and scarcely beautiful. It pleased rather by its life and
motion and oddity than by its beauty. She looked at her companion in a
peculiar way--trustfully almost reverently--and yet with a touch of
coquetry which seemed perfectly native to every turn of her body or
glance of her eyes.

The young lawyer was a fine Western type of self-made man. He was tall
and broad-shouldered, but walked a little stooping, like a man of fifty.
He wore a long Prince Albert frock coat hanging loosely from his rather
square shoulders. His white vest was a little soiled by his watch chain
and his tie was disarranged.

His face was very fine and good. His eyes were gray-blue, deep and quiet
but slightly smiling, as were his lips, which his golden-brown mustache
shaded but did not hide. He was kept smiling in this quizzical way by
the nervous chatter of the girl beside him. His profile, which was the
view Allen had of him, was handsome. The strong, straight nose and
abrupt forehead formed a marked contrast to the rather characterless
nose and retreating forehead of the girl.

The first words that Allen distinguished out of the merry war in which
they seemed engaged were spoken in the tone of pretty petulance such
women use, a coquette's defense.

"You did, you did, you _did_. _Now!_ You know you did. You told me that.
You told me you despised girls like me."

"I said I despised women who had no object in life but dress," he
replied, rather soberly.

"But you were hopping on me; you meant me, now! You can't deny it. You
despise me, I know you do!" She challenged his f