ome of the wild, plaintive airs of his native
country.

Jack was the first to speak, as he asked in a low tone, "You have met
the young men I spoke of the other evening?"

"Yes," replied Lyle, still gazing into the fire, "they are stopping at
the house."

"How long will they remain?"

"The younger one, the one you particularly admired, is to stop for a
few weeks only; the other will probably remain permanently, as he is
bookkeeper for the mining company."

Jack gave an almost imperceptible start, but slight as it was, Lyle
noticed it, and turning quickly, saw a peculiar expression of mingled
surprise, perplexity and annoyance on his usually immobile face.

"Bookkeeper for the mining company!" he exclaimed, "are you sure you
are correct?"

"I can only quote for my authority the Honorable J. O. Blaisdell," she
replied archly, "you surely wouldn't doubt his word under any
circumstances, would you? You look surprised; did you consider Mr.
Houston one of the 'lilies'?"

Jack looked at her inquiringly.

"One of the 'lilies' like Mr. Rutherford," she explained, "who 'toil
not neither do they spin,' I supposed him one at first, but I think
differently now; I believe he would always be a worker of some kind,
whether it were necessary or not; at the same time I don't believe it
is exactly necessary for him to be a bookkeeper."

"You seem to have made a study of him," remarked Jack, quietly.

"Of course," answered Lyle, "what else are my eyes and my small stock
of brains for, but to study everybody and everything that comes in my
way? Besides, it's rather interesting to find a person of some depth,
after such shallow people as Mr. Blaisdell and Haight, and that
class."

"Sometimes, Lyle," said Jack, slowly, "these deep people make a
dangerous study; they are likely to become too interesting."

"Never you fear for me, Jack," said the girl, with considerable
spirit, but kindly, "I know too well how the world would look upon old
Jim Maverick's daughter, to carry my heart on my sleeve."

Both were silent for a moment, Jack watching her face intently. Mike
had left the room. Lyle continued, in a gentler tone,

"Mr. Houston is a perfect gentleman; he would make a safe study for
me, even if I didn't realize my position. He reminds me of you, Jack,
in some ways."

"Of me!" said Jack sarcastically, "your Mr. Houston would doubtless
feel nattered at being compared to a weather-beaten miner."

"You were not always a mi