e was the
stunning beauty of Marian Thorne as she paused in the doorway, the light
misting her white hair and deepening the tints of her red waist The
other was why the young girl facing them had forbidden them to reveal
that two hours before they had seen her in the canyon. Katy, the
efficient life-saver of the Strong family, announced dinner, and Linda
drew back the curtains and led the way to the dining room, saying
when they had arrived: "I didn't have time in my hour's notice to make
elaborate place cards as I should have liked to do, so these little pen
sketches will have to serve."

To cover his embarrassment and to satisfy his legal mind, John Gilman
turned to Linda, asking: "Why 'an hour'? I told Eileen a week ago I was
expecting the boys today."

"But that does not prove that Eileen mentioned it to me," answered Linda
quietly; "so you must find your places from the cards I could prepare in
a hurry."

This same preparation of cards at the round table placed Eileen between
the architect and the author, Marian between the author and John Gilman,
and Linda between Gilman and the architect, which added one more tiny
gale to the storm of fury that was raging in the breast of white-faced
Eileen. The situation was so strained that without fully understanding
it, Marian, who was several years older than either of the Strong
sisters, knew that although she was tired to the point of exhaustion
she should muster what reserve force she could to the end of making the
dinner party particularly attractive, because she was deeply interested
in drawing to the valley every suitable home seeker it was possible
to locate there. It was the unwritten law of the valley that whenever
a home seeker passed through, every soul who belonged exerted the
strongest influence to prove that the stars hung lower and shone bigger
and in bluer heavens than anywhere else on earth; that nowhere could
be found air to equal the energizing salt breezes from the sea, snow
chilled, perfumed with almond and orange; that the sun shone brighter
more days in the year, and the soil produced a greater variety of
vegetables and fruits than any other spot of the same size on God's
wonderful footstool. This could be done with unanimity and enthusiasm
by every resident of Lilac Valley for the very simple reason that it was
the truth. The valley stood with its steep sides raying blue from myriad
wild lilacs; olives and oranges sloped down to the flat floor, whe