s than Lawrence himself.
It had certainly been the last thing in his thoughts on the dark,
damp night when he had overtaken Bessy walking home alone from prayer
meeting and had offered to drive her the rest of the way.

Bessy assented and got into his buggy. At first she was very silent,
and Lawrence, who was a bashful lad at the best of times, felt
tongue-tied and uncomfortable. But presently Bessy, pitying his
evident embarrassment, began to talk to him. She could talk well, and
Lawrence found himself entering easily into the spirit of her piquant
speeches. He had an odd feeling that he had never known Bessy Houghton
before; he had certainly never guessed that she could be such good
company. She was very different from the other girls he knew, but he
decided that he liked the difference.

"Are you going to the party at Baileys' tomorrow night?" he asked, as
he helped her to alight at her door.

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm invited--but I'm all alone--and
parties have never been very much in my line."

There was a wistful note in her voice, and Lawrence detecting it, said
hurriedly, not giving himself time to get frightened: "Oh, you'd
better go to this one. And if you like, I'll call around and take
you."

He wondered if she would think him very presumptuous. He thought her
voice sounded colder as she said: "I am afraid that it would be too
much trouble for you."

"It wouldn't be any trouble at all," he stammered. "I'll be very
pleased to take you."

In the end Bessy had consented to go, and the next evening Lawrence
called for her in the rose-red autumn dusk.

Bessy was ready and waiting. She was dressed in what was for her
unusual elegance, and Lawrence wondered why people called Bessy
Houghton so plain. Her figure was strikingly symmetrical and softly
curved. Her abundant, dark-brown hair, instead of being parted plainly
and drawn back into a prim coil as usual, was dressed high on her
head, and a creamy rose nestled amid the becoming puffs and waves.
She wore black, as she usually did, but it was a lustrous black silk,
simply and fashionably made, with frost-like frills of lace at her
firm round throat and dainty wrists. Her cheeks were delicately
flushed, and her wood-brown eyes were sparkling under her long lashes.

She offered him a half-opened bud for his coat and pinned it on for
him. As he looked down at her he noticed what a sweet mouth she
had--full and red, with a half child-like curve.