aid testily, "a real man."

He gave an imperceptible shrug with his shoulders, and his tone was
tinged with irony as he inquired with forced mildness:

"Any different--from the _many_ you have known?"

"Yes," she retorted; "from _all_ I have known."

He laughed derisively.

"So that's why you didn't come into Denver to meet me to-day, but left
word for me to come out here?"

"Yes."

"I thought I was pretty decent to take a dusty ride half-way across the
continent in order to keep you company on your way back to New York,
and welcome you to our home, but maybe I had the wrong idea."

She nodded, and almost mockingly replied:

"Yes, I think you had the wrong idea."

"In love, eh?" he chuckled.

"Yes," she answered firmly. "Just that--in love."

He smiled grimly.

"A new sensation?"

"No," she retorted quick as a flash, "the first conviction."

He left the seat on which he was leaning, and approached nearer to
where she still sat crouched.

"You have had that idea before," he said ironically. "Every woman's
love is the real one when it comes. Do you make a distinction in this
case, young lady?"

"Yes," she answered.

"For instance, what?"

She rose to her feet, and, going to a chair, sat carelessly on one of
the arms, drawing imaginary lines on the ground with her parasol. He
could see that she was highly nervous and trying hard to control
herself. Quickly she said:

"This man is poor--absolutely broke. He hasn't even got a good job. You
know, Will--all the rest, including yourself, generally had some
material inducement----"

The broker gave a snort of impatience, and, going to the table, picked
up a magazine, and made a pretense of becoming deeply interested in its
contents. But his fit of sulks did not last long. Looking up, he
growled:

"What's his business?"

"He's a newspaper man."

"H'm-m! Romance, eh?"

"Yes, if you want to call it that--romance."

"Do I know him?"

She shook her head and smiled.

"I hardly think so. He has been to New York only once or twice in his
life, and he's not the kind of man one usually finds in your set."

Brockton sat looking at her with an amused, indulgent, almost paternal
expression on his face. In contrast with his big, bluff physical
personality, his iron-gray hair and bull-dog expression Laura appeared
more youthful and girlish than ever. A stranger catching a glimpse of
the terrace might have taken them for father and daughter engaged in an