little wild-cat represents its species. She's a
beautiful girl, and yet she is to me one of the most unattractive women
I ever knew."

Jennie looked puzzled. "You are a little hard on her, George. She _is_
unsympathetic, but I think she says a lot of those shocking things just
to hurt you."

"That isn't very nice, either," he said, quietly. "Well, our goods are
on the way, and by Thursday we'll be independent of any one. But maybe
you are right--it would excite comment if I left the mess. I will join
you all at meals until we are ready to light our own kitchen fire."

Thereafter he saw very little of the artists. By borrowing a few
necessaries of his head farmer he was able to camp down in the house
which Sennett had so precipitately vacated. He was busy, very busy,
during the day; but when his work was over and he sat beside his fire,
pipe in hand, Elsie's haughty face troubled him. His life had not taken
him much among women, and his love fancies had been few. His duties as
an officer and his researches as a forester and map-builder had also
aided to keep him a bachelor. Once or twice he had been disturbed by a
fair face at the post, only to have it whisked away again into the
mysterious world of happy girlhood whence it came.

And now, at thirty-four, he was obliged to confess that he was as far
from marriage as ever--farther, in fact, for an Indian reservation
offers but slender opportunity in way of courtship for a man of his
exacting tastes.

He was not quite honest with himself, or he would have acknowledged the
pleasure he took in watching Elsie's erect and graceful figure as she
rode past his office window of a morning. It was pleasant to pause at
the open door of her studio for a moment and say "Good-morning," though
he received but a cold and formal bow in return. She was more alluring
at her easel than in any other place, for she had several curious and
very pretty tricks in working, and seemed like a very intent child, with
her brown hair loosening over her temples, her eyes glowing with
excitement, while she dabbed at the canvas with a piece of cheese-cloth
or a crumb of bread. She dragged her stool into position with a quick,
amusing jerk, holding her brush in her teeth meanwhile. Her blouses were
marvels of odd grace and rich color.

The soldier once or twice lingered in silence at the door after she had
forgotten his presence, and each time the glow of her disturbing beauty
burned deeper into hi