to move away--move back
into civilization."

For a moment neither spoke; then, with a last pressure of her cheek
against her father's, the girl crossed the room and took another chair.
Scotty followed her with his eyes.

"Are you against me, too, little girl?" he asked.

Florence reached over to the table, took up an ever-ready strip of
rice-paper, and, rolling a cigarette, tendered it with the air of a
peace-offering.

"No, I'm not against you; but it's got to come. Mamma simply can't
change. She can't find anything here to interest her, and we've got to
take her away--for good."

Scotty slowly struck a sulphur match, waited until the flame had burned
well along the wood, then deliberately lit his cigarette and burned it
to a stump.

"Aren't you happy here, Flossie?" he asked gently.

The girl's hands were folded in her lap, her eyes looked past him
absently.

"Really, for once in my life," she answered seriously, "I spoke quite
unselfishly. I was thinking only of mamma." There was a pause, and a
deeper concentration in the brown eyes. "As for myself, I hardly know.
Yes, I do know. I'm happy now, but I wouldn't be long. The life here is
too narrow; I'd lose interest in it. At last I'd have a frantic desire,
one I couldn't resist, to peep just over the edge of the horizon and
take part in whatever is going on beyond." She smiled. "I might run
away, or marry an Indian, or do something shocking!"

Scotty flicked off a bit of ashes with his little finger.

"Can't you think of anything that would interest you and broaden your
life enough to make it pleasant?" he ventured.

This time mirth shone upon the girl's face, and a laugh sounded in her
voice.

"Papa, papa," she said, "I didn't think that of you! Are you so anxious
to get rid of your daughter?" As swiftly as it had come, the smile
vanished, leaving in its place a softer and warmer color.

"I'm not enough of a hypocrite," she added slowly, "to pretend not to
understand what you mean. Yes, I believe if there is a man in the world
I could care enough for to marry, I could live here or anywhere with him
and be perfectly happy; but that isn't possible. I'm of the wrong
disposition." The soft color in the cheek grew warmer, the brown eyes
sparkled. "I know myself well enough to realize that any man I could
care for wouldn't live out here. He'd be one who did things, and did
them better than others; and to do things he'd have to be where others
are. No, I n