ncle Rufus.

"Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Rufus Gray. "So it's you who have come to
the rescue of--"

But Richard interrupted him quickly. "I beg your pardon, not at all,"
said he. "It is my friend who has come to my rescue--given me the
biggest interest I have yet discovered--the game of business. I'm having
the time of my life. With the help of our mutual friend, Mr. Carson, who
is to be the business manager of the new house, we hope to make a
success."

Roberta was looking curiously at him, and his eyes suddenly met hers.
For an instant the encounter lasted, and it ended by her glance dropping
from his. There was something new to her in his face, something she
could not understand. Instead of its former rather studiedly impassive
expression there was an awakened look, a determined look, as if he had
something on hand he meant to do--and to do as soon as the present
interview should be over. Strangely enough, it was the first time she
had met him when he seemed not wholly occupied with herself, but rather
on his way to some affair of strong interest in which she had no concern
and from which she was detaining him. It was not that he was failing in
the extreme courtesy she had learned to expect from him under all
conditions. But--well, it struck her that he would return to his
companion in the glass-screened office and immediately forget her. This
was a change, indeed!

"However you choose to put it," declared Uncle Rufus kindly, "it's a
mighty fine thing for Hugh, and we wish you both success."

"You will have it. I have found my lavender linen," said Roberta,
turning back to the counter.

Richard came around to her side. "Didn't you expect to find it?" he
inquired with interest.

"I really didn't at all. We seldom find summer goods shown in a town
like this till spring is well along, least of all coloured dress linens.
But you have several shades, besides a beautiful lot of white."

"That's Carson's buying," said he, fingering a corner of the
lilac-tinted goods she held up. "I shouldn't know it from gingham. I
didn't know what gingham was till the other day. But I can recognize it
now on sight, and am no end proud of my knowledge."

"I suppose you are familiar with silk," said she with a quick glance.

He returned it. "Aren't you?"

"I'm not specially fond of it."

"What fabrics do you like best?"

"Thin, sheer things, fine but durable."

"Linens?"

"No, cottons, batistes, voiles--that sort of thin