for her hat, and running a ribbon
caressingly through his fingers.

"Why?" Beatrice smoothed the dimple complacently with her finger-tips.

"Why? Oh, it would get kind of monotonous, wouldn't it?"

"This from a man known chiefly for his pretty speeches!" Beatrice's
laugh had a faint tinge of chagrin.

"Wouldn't pretty speeches get monotonous, too?" Keith's eyes were
laughing at her.

"Yours wouldn't," she retorted, spitefully, and immediately bit her lip
and hoped he would not consider that a bid for more pretty speeches.

"Be'trice, dis hopper is awf-lly wilted!" came a sepulchral whisper from
Dorman.

Keith sighed, and went and baited the hook again. When he returned to
Beatrice, his mood had changed.

"I want you to promise--"

"I never make promises of any sort, Mr. Cameron." Beatrice had
fallen back upon her airy tone, which was her strongest weapon of
defense--unless one except her liquid-air smile.

"I wasn't thinking of asking much," Keith went on coolly. "I only wanted
to ask you not to worry about that leasing business."

"Are you worrying about it, Mr. Cameron?"

"That isn't the point. No, I can't say I expect to lose sleep over it. I
hope you will dismiss anything I may have said from your mind."

"But I don't understand. I feel that you blame Sir Redmond, when I'm
sure he--"

"I did not say I blamed anybody. I think we'll not discuss it."

"Yes, I think we shall. You'll tell me all about it, if I want to know."
Beatrice adopted her coaxing tone, which never had failed her.

"Oh, no!" Keith laughed a little. "A girl can't always have her own way
just because she wants it, even if she--"

"I've got a fish, Mr. Cam'ron!" Dorman squealed, and Keith was obliged
to devote another five minutes to diplomacy.

"I think you have fished long enough, honey," Beatrice told Dorman
decidedly. "It's nearly dinner time, and Looey Sam won't have time to
fry your fish if you don't hurry home. Shall I tell Dick you wished to
see him, Mr. Cameron?"

"It's nothing important, so I won't trouble you," Keith replied, in
a tone that matched hers for cool courtesy. "I'll see him to-morrow,
probably." He helped Dorman reel in his line, cut a willow-wand and
strung the three fish upon it by the gills, washed his hands leisurely
in the creek, and dried them on his handkerchief, just as if nothing
bothered him in the slightest degree. Then he went over and smoothed
Redcloud's mane and pulled a wisp of forelock fro