other Romeo, Rosaline had but laid the velvet up which came the surer
feet of Juliet. "Well," said Steering happily, "all this is going to
make us acquainted, isn't it?"

"It may, if you like." She had a splendid comradeship of manner. Her
father's energy stopped short of bluster in her. Borne up on her breezy
westernism was a fragrant reserve, a fine reticence that disengaged a
tantalising promise.

"Oh, I'll like!" cried Bruce with conviction. "Do you live in Canaan?"

"Out at Madeira Place. Father said you were to come out to dine with us
to-day. I hope you will."

"He will, he will! Trust me for that!" Madeira came through the space
between the wall and the Force's cage noisily. For the first time that
morning Steering felt no repugnance to that disposition of Madeira's to
take charge of him, and he went off with Madeira, a moment later, across
Court House Square to the recorder's office, with tread elastic and eyes
sparkling.

When the two men had left her, the girl moved over to the plate-glass
window and watched Steering, a little smile on her lips, an adequate
enjoyment of his undoing dancing mercilessly in her long amber-hued
eyes.

Steering stopped behind Madeira at the door of the recorder's office
and, looking back at the plate-glass window unexpectedly, saw the girl's
eyes fixed demurely on the floor where her boot showed under the hem of
her long straight gown. It was a very little moment that they stood
thus, he with his eyes on her, she with her eyes on her boot, but it was
an electric moment. With him it was a cycle of self-abuse for the
unadvised rot that he had talked to Piney, an era of gratitude to Piney
for being the sort who would not report any of it to Miss Madeira. (Even
so little did Steering understand that a boy like Piney would
necessarily have to tell a woman like Miss Madeira about all that he
knew; tell it exuberantly, bubblingly, without ever being quite
conscious that he was telling anything.) Steering followed Madeira
inside the recorder's office slowly, and the girl went on standing at
the plate-glass window, studying her foot.

"Yes, indeed, sir," she began calling to him soundlessly, and broke off
abruptly and stood there at the window for a time, motionless and
thoughtful. She was a tall girl, of a broad-shouldered, athletic type, a
college girl by the sign of the austere cut of her gown, but a western
girl by the sign of the flying ends of the scarf about her throat, the