urable. She discovered she liked this imperturbable Englishman.
Manifestly her capacity for liking any one had immeasurably enlarged.
Quite unexpectedly her old girlish love for her younger sister sprang
into life, and with it interest in these half-forgotten friends, and a
warm regard for Edith Wayne, a chum of college days.

Helen's party was smaller than Madeline had expected it to be. Helen had
been careful to select a company of good friends, all of whom were well
known to Madeline. Edith Wayne was a patrician brunette, a serious,
soft-voiced woman, sweet and kindly, despite a rather bitter experience
that had left her worldly wise. Mrs. Carrollton Beck, a plain, lively
person, had chaperoned the party. The fourth and last of the feminine
contingent was Miss Dorothy Coombs--Dot, as they called her--a young
woman of attractive blond prettiness.

For a man Castleton was of very small stature. He had a pink-and-white
complexion, a small golden mustache, and his heavy eyelids, always
drooping, made him look dull. His attire, cut to what appeared to be an
exaggerated English style, attracted attention to his diminutive size.
He was immaculate and fastidious. Robert Weede was a rather large florid
young man, remarkable only for his good nature. Counting Boyd Harvey, a
handsome, pale-faced fellow, with the careless smile of the man for whom
life had been easy and pleasant, the party was complete.

Dinner was a happy hour, especially for the Mexican women who served it
and who could not fail to note its success. The mingling of low voices
and laughter, the old, gay, superficial talk, the graciousness of a
class which lived for the pleasure of things and to make time pass
pleasurably for others--all took Madeline far back into the past. She
did not care to return to it, but she saw that it was well she had not
wholly cut herself off from her people and friends.

When the party adjourned to the porch the heat had markedly decreased
and the red sun was sinking over the red desert. An absence of spoken
praise, a gradually deepening silence, attested to the impression on
the visitors of that noble sunset. Just as the last curve of red rim
vanished beyond the dim Sierra Madres and the golden lightning began to
flare brighter Helen broke the silence with an exclamation.

"It wants only life. Ah, there's a horse climbing the hill! See, he's
up! He has a rider!"

Madeline knew before she looked the identity of the man riding u