in that line have been confined
to one formal call."

She sympathized with him elaborately. "Calls of that sort do bore men
so. I'll not forget the first time you called on me."

"Nor I," he came back gallantly.

"I marveled how you came through alive, but I learned then that a man
can't be bored to death."

"I came again nevertheless," he smiled. "And again--and again."

"I am still wondering why."

"'Oh, wad some power the giffie gite us
To see ourselves as others see us!"'

he quoted with a bow.

"Is that a compliment?" she asked dubiously.

"I have never heard it used so before. Anyhow, it is a little hackneyed
for anybody so original as you."

"It was the best I could do offhand."

She changed the subject abruptly. "Has the new campaign of the war
begun yet?"

"Well, we're maneuvering for position."

"You've seen him. How does he impress you?"

"The same as he does others. A hard, ruthless fighter. Unless all signs
fail, he is an implacable foe."

"But you are not afraid?"

He smiled. "Do I look frightened?"

"No, you remind me of something a burglar once told me--"

"A what?"

"A burglar--a reformed burglar!" She gave him a saucy flash of her dark
eyes. "Do you think I don't know any lawbreakers except those I have
met in this State? I came across this one in a mission where I used to
think I was doing good. He said it was not the remuneration of the
profession that had attracted him, but the excitement. It was
dreadfully frowned down upon and underpaid. He could earn more at his
old trade of a locksmith, but it seemed to him that every impediment to
success was a challenge to him. Poor man, he relapsed again, and they
put him in Sing Sing. I was so interested in him, too."

"You've had some queer friends in your time," he laughed, but without a
trace of disapproval.

"I have some queer ones yet," she thrust back.

"Let's not talk of them," he cried, in pretended alarm.

Her inextinguishable gaiety brought back the smile he liked. "We'll
talk of SOME ONE else--some one of interest to us both." |

"I am always ready to talk of Miss Virginia Balfour," he said,
misunderstanding promptly.

She smiled her disdain of his obtuseness in an elaborately long survey
of him.

"Well?" he wanted to know.

"That's how you look--very well, indeed. I believe the storm was
greatly exaggerated," she remarked.

"Isn't that rather a good definition for a blizzard--a greatly
exaggerated stor