fle, but they'll expand again. I'll be riding
a horse in a month."

Ben was sympathetic, but had eyes only for Bertha, whose improvement (in
mind as in bearing) astonished and delighted him. Her trip, coming just
at the period when her observation was keenest and her memory most
tenacious, had subtly, swiftly ripened her. Wrought upon by a thousand
pictures, moved by strange words and faces, unconsciously changing to
the color of each new conception, deriving sweetness and charm from
every chance-heard strain of music and poetry, she had opened like a
rose.

The middle-aged are prone to go about the world carrying their habits,
their prejudices, and their ailments with them to return as they went
forth; but youth like Bertha's adventures out into the world eager to be
built upon, ready to be transformed from child to adult, as it would
seem, in a day.

"She has achieved new distinction!" Ben exulted as he watched her moving
about the room, so supple, so powerful, and so graceful, but, though he
was careful not to utter one word of praise, he could not keep the glow
of admiration from his eyes.

An hour later as he said good-night and went away with Congdon, his
heart burned with secret, rebellious fire. "Was it not hateful that this
glorious girl should be doomed to live out the sweetest, most alluring
of her years with a gross and crippled old man?" To leave her under the
same roof with Mart Haney seemed like exposing her to profanation and
despair.

They were hardly out of the gate before Congdon broke forth in open
praise of her. "When Mart dies, what a witching morsel for some man!"

Fordyce did not answer on the instant, and when he did his voice was
constrained. "You don't think he's in immediate danger of it--do you?"

"Quite the contrary. He looks to be on the upgrade; but it's a safe bet
she outlives him, and then think of her with a hundred thousand dollars
a year to spend! Talk about honey-pots!--and flies!" After a moment's
silence he added, musingly: "Funny how one's ideas change. A year ago I
thought she was deeply indebted to him; now I feel that with all his
money he can't possibly repay her for what she's giving up on his
account. And yet his chink has made her what she is. Money is a weird
power when applied to a woman. Tiled bath-rooms, silk stockings and
bonnets work wonders with the sex. She's improved mightily on this
trip."

After leaving Congdon, Ben went to his apartment and telephoned