The man recognized the finality in her tone, but, feeling that it was
useless, made a last endeavour.

"I'm going away to-morrow," he said. "You might think differently when I
come back again."

The girl's voice quivered a little. "No," she said. "I have to be
straightforward now, and I know you will try to make it easier for me,
even if I'm hurting you. It's no use. I shall think the same, and by and
by you'll get over this fancy, and wonder what you ever saw in me."

The man smiled curiously. "I am afraid it will take me a lifetime," he
said.

In another moment he had gone, and Hetty turned, a trifle flushed in face,
towards the house across the lawn.

"He took it very well--and I shall never find anyone half so nice again,"
she said.

It was half an hour later, and Miss Torrance had recovered at least her
outward serenity, when one of Mrs. Schuyler's neighbours arrived. She
brought one or two young women, and a man, with her. The latter she
presented to Mrs. Schuyler.

"Mr. Reginald Clavering," she said. "He's from the prairie where Miss
Torrance's father lives, and is staying a day or two with us. When I heard
he knew Hetty I ventured to bring him over."

Mrs. Schuyler expressed her pleasure, and--for they had gone back to the
lighted room now--Hetty presently found herself seated face to face with
the stranger. He was a tall, well-favoured man, slender, and lithe in
movement, with dark eyes and hair, and a slightly sallow face that
suggested that he was from the South. It also seemed fitting that he was
immaculately dressed, for there was a curious gracefulness about him that
still had in it a trace of insolence. No one would have mistaken him for a
Northerner.

"It was only an hour ago I found we were so near, and I insisted upon
coming across at once," he said. "You have changed a good deal since you
left the prairie."

"Yes," said the girl drily. "Is it very astonishing? You see, we don't
spend half our time on horseback here. You didn't expect to find me a
sharp-tongued Amazon still?"

Clavering laughed as he looked at her, but the approval of what he saw was
a trifle too evident in his black eyes.

"Well," he said languidly, "you were our Princess then, and there was only
one of your subjects' homage you never took kindly to. That was rough on
him, because he was at least as devoted as the rest."

"That," said the girl, with a trace of acerbity, "was because he tried to
patronize me. Even if I