of a dusky hall into a brilliantly lighted room,
Harley was dazzled for a moment, but he found himself bowing when she
introduced him to "My niece, Miss Morgan, of Idaho." Then he saw a tall,
slender girl, with a singularly frank and open countenance, and a hand
extended to him as familiarly as if she had known him all her life.
Harley, although he had not expected the offer of the hand, took it and
gave it one little shake. He felt an unaccountable embarrassment. He saw
a faint twinkle in the girl's eye, as if she found something amusing in
his appearance, and he feared that he had made a mistake in coming in
evening-dress. He flushed a little and felt a slight resentment towards
Mrs. Grayson, because she had not told him of this niece; but he was
relieved for the moment by an introduction to the third guest, Mrs.
Boyle, an elderly lady, also a relative, but more distantly so.

Mrs. Boyle merely bowed, and at once returned Harley to the custody of
the niece from Idaho, of whom he felt some fear, her singular freedom of
manner and the faint twinkle that still lurked in her eye putting him on
edge. Moreover, he was assigned to a seat next to her, and, as obviously
he was expected to entertain her, his fear increased. This girl was not
only Western, but Far Western, and, in his opinion, there was none so
wise who could tell what she would do or say. He repeated to himself the
word "Idaho," and it sounded remote, rough, and wild.

"Uncle James tells me that you are a correspondent, the representative
of the New York _Gazette_," she said.

"Yes."

"And that you are to go with him on the campaign and write brilliant
accounts of the things that never happen."

"I am sure that Mr. Grayson was not your authority for such a
statement," said Harley, with a smile, although he did not wholly relish
her banter.

"Oh no, Uncle James is a very polite man, and very considerate of the
feelings of others."

"Then it is a supposition of your own?"

"Oh no, not a supposition at all; the New York newspapers sometimes
reach us even in Idaho."

Harley did not respond to her banter, thinking it premature, as she had
never seen him before. He could not forget the reserve and shyness
natural to him, and he felt a sense of hostility. He glanced at her, and
saw a cheek ruddier than the cheeks of American women usually are, and a
chin with an unusually firm curve. Her hair was dark brown, and when the
electric light flashed upon her it s