st curiosity about it."

They rode on in silence, then he said,

"What's made you mad?"

"Mad? I'm not mad."

"Not at all?"

"No. Why should I be?"

"That's what I want to know. You don't like me, little lady, is that
it?"

"I neither like nor dislike you. I don't think of you."

She immediately regretted the words. She was so completely a woman, so
dowered with the instinct of attraction, that she realized they were
not the words of indifference.

"My thoughts are full of other people," she said hastily, trying to
amend the mistake, and that was spoiled by a rush of color that
suddenly dyed her face.

She looked over the horse's head, her anger now turned upon herself.
The man made no answer, but she knew that he was watching her. They
paced on for a silent moment then he said:

"Why are you blushing?"

"I am not," she cried, feeling the color deepening.

"You've told two lies," he answered. "You said you weren't angry, and
you're mad all through, and now you say you're not blushing, and your
face is as pink as one of those little flat roses that grow on the
prairie. It's all right to get mad and blush, but I'd like to know why
you do it. I made you mad someway or other, I don't know how. Have
_I_ made you blush, too?" he leaned nearer trying to look at her.
"How'd I do that?"

She had a sidelong glimpse of his face, quizzical, astonished, full of
piqued interest. She struggled with the mortification of a petted
child, suddenly confronted by a stranger who finds its caprices only
ridiculous and displeasing. Under the new sting of humiliation she
writhed, burning to retaliate and make him see the height of her
pedestal.

"Yes, I _have_ told two lies," she said. "I was angry and I _am_
blushing, and it's because I'm in a rage with you."

The last touch was given when she saw that his surprise contained the
bitter and disconcerting element of amusement.

"Isn't that just what I said, and you denied it?" he exclaimed. "Now
_why_ are you in a rage with me?"

"Because--because--well, if you're too stupid to know why, or are just
pretending, I won't explain. I don't intend to ride with you any more.
Please don't try and keep up with me."

She gave her reins a shake and her horse started on a brisk canter. As
she sped away she listened for his following hoof beats, for she made
no doubt he would pursue her, explain his conduct, and ask her pardon.
The request not to keep up with her h