ecame softly visible in the glow. She saw how serious it seemed, and
guessed he was purposely making it so.

"Since you insist--!" he began very carefully. "My dryad in this
enchanted wood is the most enticing spirit ever clothed in the graces
of woman. That's all."

Again he turned to his cigarette. Again the red glow and the serious
face. Again her accurate suspicion.

"If that is all, you're not playing fair. Does she live in a tree?"

"No. She lives in a big white house with big white columns; by night she
haunts me, but by day she holds school for mortals in a shady grove."

"I thought you were more original than that," she said, in an
expressionless voice. "So we're not to talk any more, are we!"

"But I swear--" he began.

"So do I," she interrupted him, "that you bore me to extinction with
things like that, Brent; honestly you do! If you can't be just a little
bit sincere, I can't be interested in you."

They had known each other for more than two months; two months of almost
daily, unconventional contact, but this was the first time she had
called him Brent. It came now as a master-stroke for true understanding,
and he threw back his head and laughed.

"My, but you're a corker--beg pardon--I mean a live wire!"

"Overwhelming flattery in either case," she smiled, "and that's the
second sincere thing you've said."

"The second! Well, I like that! Perhaps when you begin thinking less
about yourself, you'll be able to see more virtues in other people!"

"No one has ever accused me of thinking particularly about myself," she
righteously flushed.

"No one has to," he replied, teasingly. "Being a teacher--although a
very young and charming one--presupposes egotism."

"Your analysis is shrewd tonight," she coolly observed.

"Not at all," he affably continued. "An egoist, and a woman whose dress
is unhooked in the back, are always blissfully unconscious that the
world is seeing more of them than they normally would permit."

Her hand stole to the back of her waist. He saw this and again began to
laugh, saying:

"I fancy that part is all right. And you know how far I am from meaning
the other, too!"

"I'm probably different from most of your friends," she spoke rather
quickly, "because I'd rather tell an unpleasant truth than a
conventional falsehood. Truth, to me, is the bravest and most beautiful
thing in life. And one reason," she added, leaning imperceptibly nearer
to see his face, "that women s