gentle women when I have had the opportunity. It doesn't make
much difference whether they are brilliant or rich or successful, if
only they are true-hearted. Loyalty is the great attribute--but," and he
shrugged a shoulder, "it is my judgment that you will not find it in
that quarter."

"You're prejudiced."

"It is my privilege to have an opinion," he replied coldly.

"We were going to be friends--Mrs. Toomey and I--we shook hands on it!"
Tears of angry disappointment were close to the surface.

He replied, doggedly:

"If you have to buy your friendships, Katie, you'd better keep your
money."

The speech stung her. She glared at him across the narrow table, and, in
the moment, each had a sense of unreality. The quarrel was like a bolt
from the blue, as startling and unexpected--as most quarrels are--the
bitterest and most lasting. Then she sprang to her feet and hurled a
taunt at him some Imp of Darkness must have suggested:

"You're jealous!" She stamped a foot at him. "That's the real reason.
You're jealous of everybody that would be friends with me! You're
jealous of Hughie. You didn't like his coming here and you don't like
his writing to me! I _hate_ you--I won't stay any longer!" It was the
blood of Jezebel of the Sand Coulee talking, and there was the look of
her mother on the girl's face, in her reckless, uncontrolled fury.

Mormon Joe winced, exactly as though she had struck him. He sat quite
still while the color faded, leaving his face bloodless. Kate never had
known anything like the white rage it depicted. Persons at the Sand
Coulee who lost their temper cursed volubly and loudly, and threatened
or made bodily attacks upon the cause of it. In spite of herself she
shrank a little as he, too, got up slowly and faced her. She didn't know
him at all--this man who first threw his cigarette away carefully, as
though he were in a drawing room and must regard the ashes--he was a
personality from an environment with which she was unfamiliar. Then, as
though she were his equal in years, experience and intelligence, he
spoke to her in a tone that was cool and impersonal, yet which went
slash! slash! slash! like the fine, deep, quick cut of a razor.

"I had no notion that you entertained any such feeling towards me. It is
something in the nature of a--er--revelation. You are quite right about
leaving. Upon second thought, you are quite right about
everything--right to keep your promise to Mrs. Toomey, since