lake. "She came to meet us
herself."

"That was very good of you, Miss Knowles," said the lady, as the two
advanced towards her. "We are very glad to meet you. Will you not
come up out of the sun?"

The white-uniformed porter promptly stood at attention. Blake as
promptly offered his hand. The girl accepted his assistance and
mounted the car steps with an absence of awkwardness instantly noted
by Mrs. Blake. That lady held out a somewhat thin white hand as Isobel
drew off her gauntlet gloves. But she did not stop with the light firm
handclasp. Lifting the girl's veil, she kissed her full on her coral
lips.

"We shall be friends," she stated, a smile in her hazel eyes.

"I hope so," murmured the girl, blushing with delight. "The only
question is whether you will like me."

Mrs. Blake patted the plump, sunbrowned hand that she had not yet
relinquished. She was little if any older than the girl, but her air
was that of matronly wisdom. "My dear, can you doubt it? I was
prepared to like even the kind of young woman my husband told me to
expect."

"Bronco Bess, Queen of the Cattle Camp," suggested the girl, dimpling.
"Wait till you see me rope and hogtie a steer."

Mrs. Blake smiled, and looked across at Ashton, who sat motionless
under the shadow of his big sombrero, his face half averted from the
car.

"I've a real surprise for you," said the girl. "Mr. Blake, if I may
tell it to you also."

Blake swung up the steps, hat in hand. "It can't be half as pleasant
as the surprise you've already given us," he said.

"I fear not," she replied, with a quick change to gravity. She looked
earnestly into their faces. "Still, I hope--yes, I really believe it
will please you when you consider it. But first, I want to tell you
that out here it's our notion that a man should be rated according to
his present life, and not blamed for his past mistakes."

"Certainly not!" agreed Mrs. Blake, with a swift glance at her
husband. "If a man has mounted to a higher level, he should be upheld,
not dragged down again."

"That's good old-style Western fair play," added Blake.

"I'm so glad you take it that way!" said Isobel. "A young man utterly
ruined in fortune--partly at least through his own fault--came to us
and asked to be hired. He has been a hard worker and a gentleman. His
name is Lafayette Ashton."

"Ashton?" said Blake, his face as impassive as a granite mask.

"Yes. He has told me all about the bridge. He wished to