ffering her a suggestion--with a "May I be allowed?" was foreign to
her, and she accepted such remarks with a moment's hesitation and a
certain aloofness hardly understood by him.

He found himself treating her with a measure of freedom from the
constraint which men often place upon themselves because of the
recognition of the personal element which will obtrude between them and
femininity in general. He recognized the reason for this in her absolute
lack of coquetry toward him, but analyze the phenomenon, as yet, he
could not.

To her he was a being from another world, strange and delightful, but
set as far from her as if the sea divided them. She turned toward him
sweet, expectant eyes. She listened attentively, gropingly sometimes.
She would understand him if she could,--would learn from him and trust
him implicitly,--but her femininity never obtruded itself. Her
personality seemed to be enclosed within herself and never to lean
toward him with the subtile flattery men feel and like to awaken, but
which they often fear to arouse when they wish to remain themselves
unstirred. Her dignified poise and perfect freedom from all arts to
attract his favor and attention pleased him, but while it gave him the
safe and unconstrained feeling when with her, it still piqued his man's
nature a little to see her so capable of showing tenderness to her own,
yet so unstirred by himself.

Cassandra had never been up to his cabin when he was there, until
to-day, since the morning she came to consult him about Frale, nor had
that young man's name been uttered between them. David had said nothing
to her of the return of the valise, not wishing to touch on the subject
unless she gave the opportunity for him to ask what she knew about it.
Now, since his morning's talk with her mother had envisioned an ideal,
and shown a glory beyond, he was glad to have this opportunity of being
alone with her and of sounding her depths.

For a long time they rode in silence, and he remembered her mother's
words, "He may have told Cass, but she is that still." She carried her
basket carefully before her on the pommel of her saddle. Gradually the
large sunbonnet which quite hid her face slipped back, and the sun
lighted the bronze tints of her hair. As he rode at her side he studied
her watchfully, so simply dressed in homespun material which had faded
from its original color to a sort of turquoise green. The stuff was
heavy and clung closely to her fig