t find it interesting."

Elizabeth tried to dissuade her. It was ridiculous. It was monstrous. She
was not strong enough. It would be throwing her life away, as surely as to
transplant a tender orchid to that burning sage-brush country. But in the
end she said: "Well, Bee, then I'll go with you."

CHAPTER XXIX

BACK TO HESPERIDES VALE

The Mayor of Weatherbee stopped his new, six-passenger car at the curb in
front of the completed brick block; not at the corner which was occupied
by the Merchants' National Bank, but at the adjoining entrance, above
which shone the neat gilt sign: "Madame Lucile's." He stood for a moment
surveying the window display, which was exceedingly up-to-date, showing
the prevailing color scheme of green or cerise in the millinery, softened
by a background of mauve and taupe in the arrangement of the gowns. A
card, placed unobtrusively in the corner of the plate glass, announced
that Madame Lucile, formerly with Sedgewick-Wilson of Seattle, was
prepared to give personal attention to all orders.

Bailey himself that day was equipped in a well-made suit from the
tailoring establishment on the opposite side of the building. Though he
had not yet gathered that avoirdupois which is associated with the dignity
of office, there was in his square young frame an undeniable promise.
Already he carried himself with the deliberation of a man whose future is
assured, and his mouth took those upward curves of one who is humorously
satisfied with himself and his world.

There were no customers when he entered, and since it was the hour when
her assistant was out at lunch, Madame, attired in a gown of dark blue
velvet, her black hair arranged with elaborate care, was alone in the
shop. And Bailey's glance, having traveled the length of the soft green
carpet to the farthest mirror, returned in final approval to her. "This
certainly is swell," he said, "It's like a sample right out of Chicago.
But I knew you could do it, the minute Mrs. Banks mentioned you. Why, the
first time I saw you--it was on the street the day I struck Wenatchee--I
told myself: 'This town can't be very wild and woolly if it can turn out
anything as classy as that.'"

Madame laughed. "I must have looked like a moving fashion plate to attract
attention that way. I feel a little over-dressed now, after wearing the
uniform in Sedgewick-Wilson's so long; but Mrs. Banks said I ought to wear
nice clothes to advertise the store."

Ba