pportunity to
create a newspaper sensation I cannot congratulate you on your
prospects."

This time her tone stung. Io Welland's eyes became sullen. But her voice
was almost caressingly amiable as she said:

"Tastes differ. It is, I believe, possible to create a sensation in New
York society without any newspaper publicity, and without at all meaning
or wishing to. At least, it was, fifteen years ago; so I'm told."

Camilla Van Arsdale's face was white and lifeless and still, as she
turned it toward the girl.

"You must have been a very precocious five-year-old," she said steadily.

"All the Olneys are precocious. My mother was an Olney, a first cousin
of Mrs. Willis Enderby, you know."

"Yes; I remember now."

The malicious smile on the girl's delicate lips faded. "I wish I, hadn't
said that," she cried impulsively. "I hate Cousin Mabel. I always have
hated her. She's a cat. And I think the way she, acted in--in
the--the--well, about Judge Enderby and--".

"Please!" Miss Van Arsdale's tone was peremptory. "Here is my place."
She indicated a clearing with a little nest of a camp in it.

"Shall I go back?" asked Io remorsefully.

"No."

Miss Van Arsdale dismounted and, after a moment's hesitancy, the other
followed her example. The hostess threw open the door and a beautiful,
white-ruffed collie rushed to her with barks of joy. She held out a hand
to her new guest.

"Be welcome," she said with a certain stately gravity, "for as long as
you will stay."

"It might be some time," answered Io shyly. "You're tempting me."

"When is your wedding?"

"Wedding! Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm not going to marry Carter Holmesley
either."

"You are not going--"

"No. The bump on my head must have settled my brain. As soon as I came
to I saw how crazy it would be. That is why I don't want to go on West."

"I see. For fear of his overbearing you."

"Yes. Though I don't think he could now. I think I'm over it. Poor old
Del! He's had a narrow escape from losing me. I hope he never hears of
it. Placid though he is, that might stir him up."

"Then you'll go back to him?"

The girl sighed. "I suppose so. How can I tell? I'm only twenty, and it
seems to me that somebody has been trying to marry me ever since I
stopped petting my dolls. I'm tired of men, men, men! That's why I want
to live alone and quiet for a while in the station-agent's shack."

"Then you don't consider Mr. Banneker as belonging to the tribe of me