ly affable in his manner and
Grace was all sweetness in return. Constance Brevoort, watching the
little by-play, was genuinely amused; with the wisdom of the old serpent
she effaced herself as much as possible, and as soon as conventionality
would permit, excused herself and retired to her room, leaving the
leaven of her beauty to work in what she correctly judged to be warm and
fertile soil. It was a clever bit of strategy that would in nine out of
ten instances have been altogether successful and she smiled as she
looked into the little mirror.

"This one will be worth while," she mused aloud, her mouth full of
hair-pins. "But he will require different treatment from the others, and
will have to be handled carefully. But why did she say he was not
handsome? The man is as beautiful as a Greek god done in bronze. And he
has the strength of ten. He caught me up like a feather." She looked
with a strange admiration at the slight discoloration of the white flesh
where his arm had gripped her waist. "Yes, he will be worth while."

But fate had capriciously designed this to be the tenth instance; after
she had left the room an embarrassing silence had fallen upon the stuffy
little parlor and after awhile, Douglass rose diffidently and stalked
toward the door, mumbling some conventional excuse for his departure.
His hand was already on the door knob when his name, softly spoken,
caused him to turn instantly. Grace had also risen and was standing
beside the table with one hand partly extended and something very like
entreaty in her eyes.

"Tell me," she said without preamble, coming straight to the point, "why
did you leave the C Bar? My brother says you gave no reason; and I think
I have a right to know."

For the eternal half of a minute he regarded her with somber scorn. "I
guess you've got another think coming," he said with slangy
impoliteness. "When, and where, and how, and by whom was conferred upon
you the right to demand of me an accounting of my private affairs?"

Her bosom was heaving in hot resentment of his studied incivility and
her lips trembled with a fierce desire to give him scorn for scorn. But
she had too much at stake and another opportunity might not offer if she
let the present one escape her. So she wisely availed herself of woman's
best weapon and a tear glistened in her eye as she said humbly: "I
presumed too greatly; and I am fully rebuked. I have no right--not even
the right to expect courtesy