hink," Evadna drawled sweetly--the sweet
tones which always mean trouble, when employed by a woman.

Good Indian bit his lip, got up, and threw his cigarette out of the
window, and looked at her reproachfully, and felt vaguely that he was
misunderstood and most unjustly placed upon the defensive.

"I only came over," Evadna went on, as sweetly as before, "to say that
there's a package at the store which I can't very well carry, and I
thought perhaps you wouldn't mind taking it--when you go."

"I'm going now, if you're ready," he told her shortly, and reached for
his hat.

Evadna rocked a moment longer, making him wait for her reply. She
glanced at Miss Georgie still busy at the telegraph table, gave a little
sigh of resignation, and rose with evident reluctance.

"Oh--if you're really going," she drawled, and followed him outside.

CHAPTER XVI. "DON'T GET EXCITED!"

Lovers, it would seem, require much less material for a quarrel than
persons in a less exalted frame of mind.

Good Indian believed himself very much in love with his Christmas angel,
and was very much inclined to let her know it, but at the same time
he saw no reason why he should not sit down in Miss Georgie's
rocking-chair, if he liked, and he could not quite bring himself to
explain even to Evadna his reason for doing so. It humiliated him even
to think of apologizing or explaining, and he was the type of man who
resents humiliation more keenly than a direct injury.

As to Evadna, her atmosphere was that of conscious and magnanimous
superiority to any feeling so humanly petty as jealousy--which is
extremely irritating to anyone who is at all sensitive to atmospheric
conditions.

She stopped outside the window long enough to chirp a commonplace
sentence or two to Miss Georgie, and to explain just why she couldn't
stay a minute longer. "I told Aunt Phoebe I'd be back to lunch--dinner,
I mean--and she's so upset over those horrible men planted in the
orchard--did Grant tell you about it?--that I feel I ought to be
with her. And Marie has the toothache again. So I really must go.
Good-by--come down whenever you can, won't you?" She smiled, and she
waved a hand, and she held up her riding-skirt daintily as she turned
away. "You didn't say goodby to Georgie," she reminded Grant, still
making use of the chirpy tone. "I hope I am not in any way responsible."

"I don't see how you could be," said Good Indian calmly; and that, for
some reason, see