hrough the preliminaries.

But calm, sweet and composed as the most fastidious would require,
Rosalie greeted the visitors without a shadow of confusion or a sign of
gaucherie. Bonner felt a thrill of joy and pride as he took note of the
look of surprise that crept into his mother's face--a surprise that did
not diminish as the girl went through her unconscious test.

"By George!" he cried jubilantly to himself, "she's something to be
proud of--she's a queen!"

Later in the day, after the humble though imposing lunch (the paradox
was permissible in Tinkletown), Mrs. Bonner found time and opportunity
to express her surprise and her approval to him. With the insight of the
real aristocrat, she was not blind to the charms of the girl, who
blossomed like a rose in this out-of-the-way patch of nature. The tact
which impelled Rosalie to withdraw herself and all of the Crows from the
house, giving the Bonners an opportunity to be together undisturbed, did
not escape the clever woman of the world.

"She is remarkable, Wicker. Tell me about her. Why does she happen to
be living in this wretched town and among such people?"

Whereupon Bonner rushed into a detailed and somewhat lengthy history of
the mysterious Miss Gray, repeating it as it had come to him from her
own frank lips, but with embellishments of his own that would have
brought the red to her cheeks, could she have heard them. His mother's
interest was not assumed; his sister was fascinated by the recital.

"Who knows," she cried, her dark eyes sparkling, "she may be an heiress
to millions!"

"Or a princess of the royal blood!" amended her mother with an
enthusiasm that was uncommon. "Blood alone has made this girl what she
is. Heaven knows that billions or trillions could not have overcome the
influences of a lifetime spent in--in Winkletown--or is that the name?
It doesn't matter, Wicker--any name will satisfy. Frankly, I am
interested in the girl. It is a crime to permit her to vegetate and die
in a place like this."

"But, mother, she loves these people," protested Bonner lifelessly.
"They have been kind to her all these years. They have been parents,
protectors--"

"And they have been well paid for it, my son. Please do not
misunderstand me, I am not planning to take her off their hands. I am
not going to reconstruct her sphere in life. Not by any means. I am
merely saying that it is a crime for her to be penned up for life in
this--this desert. I doubt