rstand or read.) I was willing, however, to spend a good deal of
time studying the subject of her thoughts, and got off my horse almost as
soon as Mrs. Loroman and Edith invited me to stop and eat lunch with them.
That Weaver fellow was not present, but another man, whom they introduced
as Mr. Tenbrooke, was sitting dolefully on a rock, watching a maid
unpacking eatables. Edith told me that "Uncle Homer"--which was old man
King--and Mr. Weaver would be along presently. They had driven over to
Kenmore first, on a matter of business.

Frosty, I could see, was not going to stay, even though Edith, in a polite
little voice that made me wonder at her, invited him to do so. Edith was
not the hostess, and had really no right to do that.

I tried to get a word with Miss Beryl, found myself having a good many
words with Edith, instead, and in fifteen minutes I became as thoroughly
disgusted with unkind fate as ever I've been in my life, and suddenly
remembered that duty made further delay absolutely impossible. We rode
away, with Edith protesting prettily at what she was pleased to call my
bad manners.

For the rest of the way up that coulee Frosty and I were even more silent
and moody than we had been before. The only time we spoke was when Frosty
asked me gruffly how long those people expected to stay out here. I told
him a week, and he grunted something under his breath about female
fortune-hunters. I couldn't see what he was driving at, for I certainly
should never think of accusing Edith and her mother of being that especial
brand of abhorrence, but he was in a bitter mood, and I wouldn't argue
with him then--I had troubles of my own to think of. I was beginning to
call myself several kinds of a fool for letting a girl--however wonderful
her eyes--give me bad half-hours quite so frequently; the thing had never
happened to me before, and I had known hundreds of nice
girls--approximately. When a fellow goes through a co-ed course, and has a
dad whom the papers call financier, he gets a speaking-acquaintance with a
few girls. The trouble with me was, I never gave the whole bunch as much
thought as I was giving to Beryl King--and the more I thought about her,
the less satisfaction there was in the thinking.

I waited a day or two, and then practically ran away from my work and rode
over to that little butte. Some one was sitting on the same flat rock, and
I climbed up to the place with more haste than grace, I imagine. When