expected to acknowledge the politeness. If she wishes the
correspondence to continue, she asks a question, or in some other
way leaves an opening. Do you see?"

"Yes, I see," said Orde, slightly crestfallen. "But that's a long
time to wait. I like to feel settled about a thing. I wanted to
know."

She dropped back against the cushioned slant of her easy chair, and
laughed again.

"And so you just up and asked!" she teased.

"I beg your pardon if I was rude," he said humbly.

The laughter died slowly from her eyes.

"Don't," she said. "It would be asking pardon for being yourself.
You wanted to know: so you asked. And I'm going to answer. I shall
be very glad to correspond with you and tell you about my sort of
things, if you happen to be interested in them. I warn you: they
are not very exciting."

"They are yours," said he.

She half rose to bow in mock graciousness, caught herself, and sank
back.

"No, I won't," she said, more than half to herself. She sat
brooding for a moment; then suddenly her mood changed. She sprang