direct trail than
the one she had pointed to him. But he followed her, albeit still
embarrassedly, and with that new sense of respect which had checked his
former surliness. There was her strong, healthy, well-developed
figure moving before him, but the modish gray dress seemed to give its
pronounced outlines something of the dignity of a goddess. Even the firm
hands had the distinguishment of character.

"You understand," he said apologetically, "that I mean no discourtesy to
your father or his offer. And"--he hesitated--"neither is my reason what
you would infer."

"Then what is it?" she asked, turning to him abruptly. "You know you
have no other place when you leave here, nor any chance as good as the
one father offers you. You are not fit for any other work, and you know
it. You have no money to speculate with, nor can you get any. If you
could, you would have never stayed here."

He could not evade the appalling truthfulness of her clear eyes. He
knew it was no use to lie to her; she had evidently thoroughly informed
herself regarding his past; more than that, she seemed to read his
present thoughts. But not all of them! No! he could startle her still!
It was desperate, but he had nothing now to lose. And she liked the
truth,--she should have it!

"You are right," he said shortly; "these are not my reasons."

"Then what reason have you?"

"You!"

"Me?" she repeated incredulously, yet with a rising color.

"Yes, YOU! I cannot stay here, and have you look down upon me."

"I don't look down on you," she said simply, yet without the haste of
repelling an unjust accusation. "Why should I? Mother and I have done
the same work that you are doing,--if that's what you mean; and father,
who is a man like yourself, helped us at first, until he could do other
things better." She paused. "Perhaps you think so because YOU looked
down on us when you first came here."

"But I didn't," said Reddy quickly.

"You did," said the young girl quietly. "That's why you acted toward me
as you did the night you walked home with me. You would not have
behaved in that way to any San Francisco young lady--and I'm not one of
your--fast--MARRIED WOMEN."

Reddy felt the hot blood mount to his cheek, and looked away. "I
was foolish and rude--and I think you punished me at the time," he
stammered. "But you see I was right in saying you looked down on me," he
concluded triumphantly.

This was at best a feeble sequitur, but the argume