Elizabeth, waiting at the open door, answered: "We can see the new
arrivals, if there are any, when we go through the lobby."

Mrs. Weatherbee started across the room, but at the table she stopped to
bend over the bowl of violets, inhaling their fragrance. "Aren't they
lovely and--prodigal enough to color whole fields?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Frederic must have ordered wholesale, or else he
forgot they were in season."

Beatriz lifted her face. "Did Mr. Morganstein send these violets?" she
asked. "I thought--but there was no card."

"Why, I don't know," said Elizabeth, "but who else would have ordered
whole fields of them?"

Mrs. Weatherbee was silent, but she smiled a little as she followed
Elizabeth from the room. When they reached the foot of the staircase, the
lobby was nearly deserted; if the train had left any guests, they had been
shown already to their rooms.

The Morganstein table was at the farther end of the dining-room, but
Frederic, who was watching the door when the young women entered, at once
noticed the violets at Mrs. Weatherbee's belt.

"Must have been sent from Seattle on that last eastbound," he commented,
frowning. "Say, Marcia, why didn't you remind me to order some flowers
from town?"

Marcia's calculating eyes followed his gaze. "You would not have
remembered she is fond of violets, and they seem specially made for her;
you would have ordered unusual orchids or imported azaleas."

Frederic laughed uneasily, and a purplish flush deepened in his cheeks. "I
always figure the best is never too good for her. Not that the highest
priced makes so much difference with her. Look at her, now, will you?
Wouldn't you think, the way she carries herself, that little gray gown was
a coronation robe? George, but she is game! Acts like she expects Lucky
Banks to drop in with a clear fifty thousand, when the chances are he's
gone back on his ten. Well," he said, rising as she approached, to draw
out her chair, "what do you think about your customer now? Too bad. I bet
you've spent his Alaska dust in anticipation a hundred times over. Don't
deny it," he held up his heavy hand in playful warning as he resumed his
chair. "Speculated some myself on what you'd do with it. George, I'd like
to see the reins in your hands for once, and watch you go. You'd set us a
pace; break all records."

"Oh, no, no," she expostulated in evident distress. "I shouldn't care to--
set the pace--if I were to come into a kingdom