m, when he had won his point and
gone back to Hicks, "and get done with it. I reckon you talked when you
should have kept your blame familiar mouth shut! Come on, and get it
over with, and say you're sorry."

Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a friendly
pipe and discussed the situation. Tom pointed out that opposition was
useless, a losing game, you could get your way by less direct means. She
wouldn't stay long at Belle Plain, but while she did remain they must
avoid any more crises of the sort through which they had just passed,
and presently; she'd be sick of the place. Tom wagged his head. She was
sick of it already only she hadn't the sense to know it. It wasn't good
enough. Nothing suited-the house--the grounds--nothing!

In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to think
of Bruce Carrington. She was sure she did not wish to see him again! But
when three weeks had passed she began to feel incensed that he had not
appeared. She thought of him with hot cheeks and a quickening beat of
the heart. It was anger. Naturally she was very indignant, as she had
every right to be! He was the first man who had dared--!

Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory of
him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to think of him
again, he presented himself at Belle Plain.

She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an especially
satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and told her there
was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see her.

"Is it Mr. Norton?" asked Betty.

"No, Miss--he didn't give no name, Miss."

When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller standing
with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of the windows, but
she instantly recognized those broad shoulders, and the fine poise of
the shapely head that surmounted them.

"Oh, Mr. Carrington--" and Betty stopped short, while her face grew
rather pale and then crimsoned. Then she advanced quite boldly and held
out a frigid hand, which he took carefully. "I didn't know--so you are
alive--you disappeared so suddenly that night--"

"Yes, I'm alive," he said, and then with a smile. "But I fear before you
get through with me we'll both wish I were not, Betty."

"Don't call me Betty."

"Who was that man who met you at New Madrid? He can't have you, whoever
he is!" His eyes dwelt on her tenderly, and the remembered spell of her
fre