on't understand," and there was a little flash in Hetty's dark eyes.
"Larry's kind to everyone--he can't help it; but he doesn't want me."

Flora Schuyler gravely patted her companion's arm. "My dear, we don't want
to quarrel, but you'll be careful--to please me. Jake Cheyne is coming,
and you might be sorry ever after if you made a mistake to-night."

Hetty made no answer, and there was silence for a space while the light
grew dimmer, until the sound of voices rose from without, and she felt her
heart beat a trifle faster than usual, when somebody said, "Captain
Cheyne!"

Then there was a rustle of draperies and Mrs. Schuyler, thin, angular, and
considerably more silent than is customary with women of her race, came
in, with her younger daughter and a man in her train. The latter bore the
stamp of the soldier plainly, but there was a distinction in his pose that
was not the result of a military training. Then as he shook hands with
Flora Schuyler the fading light from the window fell upon his face,
showing it clean cut from the broad forehead to the solid chin, and
reposeful instead of nervously mobile. His even, low-pitched voice was
also in keeping with it, for Jackson Cheyne was an unostentatious American
of culture widened by travel, and, though they are not always to be found
in the forefront in their own country, unless it has need of them, men of
his type have little to fear from comparison with those to be met with in
any other one.

He spoke when there was occasion, and was listened to, but some time had
passed before he turned to Mrs. Schuyler. "I wonder if it would be too
great a liberty if I asked Miss Torrance to give us some music," he said.
"I am going away to-morrow to a desolate outpost in New Mexico, and it
will be the last time for months that I shall have a treat of that kind."

Flora Schuyler opened the piano, and Hetty smiled at Cheyne as she took
her place; but the man made a little gesture of negation when Mrs.
Schuyler would have rung for lights.

"Wouldn't it be nicer as it is?" he said.

Hetty nodded, and there was silence before the first chords rang softly
through the room. Though it may have been that the absence of necessity to
strive and stain her daintiness amidst the press was responsible for much,
Hetty Torrance's voice had failed to win her fame; but she sang and played
better than most well-trained amateurs. Thus there was no rustle of
drapery or restless movements until the l