mph, to hurl in their faces that she had outwitted them. And
she had paid the penalty of her courage--her face told that. What a woman
she was! Her heart would pay the penalty to the last throb, and yet she
could dance with the merriest of them. And as she danced she seemed to
Peter Hamilton, in her white draperies, like a cloud of whirling
snow-flakes drifting across the silence of the desert night. She was the
one woman in all the world for him, though his blind eyes had faced the
light for years and had not known it. He had squandered the strength of
his youth in the pursuit of a little wax light, and had not marked the
serene shining of the moon.

"And a man there was and he made his prayer--" he quoted to himself. Well,
thank God that it had not been answered. He would take her away from here.
She could take her place in his family and reflect credit on his choice.
His family, his friends--he winced at the thought of their possible
reception of the news. But Judith's presence would adjust these
difficulties. He would present her to Kitty now, that his old friend might
see what manner of woman she was. Kitty, he felt, would be kind in memory
of the old days. She would give to them both in friendship what she had
denied him in love. And as he warmed to the thought he turned to the woman
of his youth. And she read a look in his face that had not been there in a
long time. Had he, then, come back to her? Was the distance from bark to
shore lessening as the sea of misunderstanding diminished?

"Kitty, we were speaking a moment ago of Miss Rodney. You would like to
know her, I'm sure. We've been such good friends all these years while you
were deciding that what I wanted was not good for us--and deciding wisely,
as I know now. Look at her! You'll understand how she has helped me keep
the balance of things. When she's finished dancing you'll let me bring her
to you, won't you?"

And Kitty, who had expected much different words, struggled with the
meaning of these unexpected ones. The strangeness of the pain bewildered
her. Her dazed consciousness refused to accept that Peter was asking
permission to present to her a woman whom she thought should not have been
permitted to enter her presence. There was about her a white flame of
anger that seemed to lick up the red blood in her veins as she turned to
answer:

"She is undeniably handsome, Peter, but I do not care to meet your
mistress."

He bowed low to her as Lieutena