fire of will and driving energy.

"But I didn't actually know that I was in love. Even when I made the
trip West and wrote to him to meet the train on my return--even then I
was only guessing. When he didn't appear at the station I went cold and
made up my mind that I would never think of him again."

"But when you saw him in the street, here?"

"John Mark had prepared me and hardened me against that meeting, and I
was afraid even to think for myself. But, when Ronicky Doone--bless
him!--talked to me in your room, I knew what Bill Gregg must be, since
he had a friend who would venture as much for him as Ronicky Doone did.
It all came over me in a flash. I did love him--I did, indeed!"

"Yes, yes," whispered Ruth Tolliver, nodding and smiling faintly. "I
remember how he stood there and talked to you. He was like a man on
fire. No wonder that a spark caught in you, Caroline. He--he's a--very
fine-looking fellow, don't you think, Caroline?"

"Bill Gregg? Yes, indeed."

"I mean Ronicky."

"Of course! Very handsome!"

There was something in the voice of Caroline that made Ruth look down
sharply to her face, but the girl was clever enough to mask her
excitement and delight.

"Afterward, when you think over what he has said, it isn't a great deal,
but at the moment he seems to know a great deal--about what's going on
inside one, don't you think, Caroline?"

These continual appeals for advice, appeals from the infallible Ruth
Tolliver, set the heart of Caroline beating. There was most certainly
something in the wind.

"I think he does," agreed Caroline, masking her eyes. "He has a way,
when he looks at you, of making you feel that he isn't thinking of
anything else in the world but you."

"Does he have that same effect on every one?" asked Ruth. She added,
after a moment of thought, "Yes, I suppose it's just a habit of his. I
wish I knew."

"Why?" queried Caroline, unable to refrain from the stinging little
question.

"Oh, for no good reason--just that he's an odd character. In my work,
you know, one has to study character. Ronicky Doone is a different sort
of man, don't you think?"

"Very different, dear."

Then a great inspiration came to Caroline. Ruth was a key which, she
knew, could unlock nearly any door in the house of John Mark.

"Do you know what we are going to do?" she asked gravely, rising.

"Well?"

"We're going to open that door together, and we're going down the
stairs--together."

"T