it greatly in another woman.
And that moment saw a birth of respect and sincere liking in her for
this Western girl. If Flo Hutter ever was a rival she would be an honest
one.

Not long after supper Tom Hutter winked at Carley and said he "reckoned
on general principles it was his hunch to go to bed." Mrs. Hutter
suddenly discovered tasks to perform elsewhere. And Flo said in her cool
sweet drawl, somehow audacious and tantalizing, "Shore you two will want
to spoon."

"Now, Flo, Eastern girls are no longer old-fashioned enough for that,"
declared Glenn.

"Too bad! Reckon I can't see how love could ever be old-fashioned. Good
night, Glenn. Good night, Carley."

Flo stood an instant at the foot of the dark stairway where the light
from the lamp fell upon her face. It seemed sweet and earnest to Carley.
It expressed unconscious longing, but no envy. Then she ran up the
stairs to disappear.

"Glenn, is that girl in love with you?" asked Carley, bluntly.

To her amaze, Glenn laughed. When had she heard him laugh? It thrilled
her, yet nettled her a little.

"If that isn't like you!" he ejaculated. "Your very first words after we
are left alone! It brings back the East, Carley."

"Probably recall to memory will be good for you," returned Carley. "But
tell me. Is she in love with you?"

"Why, no, certainly not!" replied Glenn. "Anyway, how could I answer
such a question? It just made me laugh, that's all."

"Humph! I can remember when you were not above making love to a pretty
girl. You certainly had me worn to a frazzle--before we became engaged,"
said Carley.

"Old times! How long ago they seem!... Carley, it's sure wonderful to
see you."

"How do you like my gown?" asked Carley, pirouetting for his benefit.

"Well, what little there is of it is beautiful," he replied, with a slow
smile. "I always liked you best in white. Did you remember?"

"Yes. I got the gown for you. And I'll never wear it except for you."

"Same old coquette--same old eternal feminine," he said, half sadly.
"You know when you look stunning.... But, Carley, the cut of that--or
rather the abbreviation of it--inclines me to think that style for
women's clothes has not changed for the better. In fact, it's worse than
two years ago in Paris and later in New York. Where will you women draw
the line?"

"Women are slaves to the prevailing mode," rejoined Carley. "I don't
imagine women who dress would ever draw a line, if fashion went on
di