ughter. He only looked at her rather
more intently than he had before.

"But, my good child, resourcefulness is a very natural instinct. I am
afraid you read more into it than is there. You wanted the flowers, I
had a stick, and in my youth I was taught to strike clean and straight.
I am really a very simple fellow."

Looking him in the eyes, which were of a clear, candid gray, she was
ready to believe it. It seemed as if he had let her look for a moment
through his manner, his ironies, his armor of indifference, to the frank
foundations of his nature.

"But, you see, the trouble is you don't in the least look it," she
argued.

"So you think because I have a long face and wild hair that I am a
sinister person? My dear Miss Gilsey, the most desperate character I
ever knew was five feet high and wore mutton-chop whiskers. It is an
uncertain business judging men by their appearance."

She could not help smiling. "But most people do."

"I don't class you with most people."

She gave him a quick look. "You _did_ the first night."

"Possibly--but less and less ever since. You have me now in the state of
mind where I don't know what you'll be at next."

This was fortunate, she thought, since she had not the least idea
herself, beyond a teasing desire to find out more about him. He had
shown her many fleeting phases which, put together, seemed
contradictory. She could not connect this man, so mild and amusing,
strolling beside her, with the alert, whetted, combative person of the
night before, or even with the aloof and reticent figure on the
parade-ground. His very attitude toward herself had changed from the
amused scrutiny of the first night into something more indulgent, more
sympathetic. There was only one attitude on his part that had remained
the same--one attitude toward one person--and her mind hovered over
this. On each occasion it had stirred her curiosity and, though she had
not admitted it, made her uneasy. Why not probe him on the subject, now
that she had him completely to herself? But as soon as silence fell
between them she saw that wave of preoccupation which had submerged him
during their walk from the parade-ground to the Purdies' rising over him
again and floating him away from her. He no longer even looked at her.
His eyes were on the ground, and it was not until they had crossed the
open expanse of the shallow valley and were climbing toward the avenue
of cypress that she found courage to put h