ly, forgetful of any presence in the dark
corner opposite, she threw her head a little farther back, slipped a
trifle lower, and placing two well-booted feet upon the middle seat,
completed a charming and wholesome picture.

Five minutes elapsed. She was looking straight at the moon. Cass Beard
felt his dignified reserve becoming very much like awkwardness. He
ought to be coldly polite.

"I hope you're not flustered, Miss, by the--by the"--he began.

"I?" She straightened herself up in the seat, cast a curious glance
into the dark corner, and then, letting herself down again, said: "Oh
dear, no!"

Another five minutes elapsed. She had evidently forgotten him. She
might, at least, have been civil. He took refuge again in his reserve.
But it was now mixed with a certain pique.

Yet how much softer her face looked in the moonlight! Even her square
jaw had lost that hard, matter-of-fact, practical indication which was
so distasteful to him, and always had suggested a harsh criticism of
his weakness. How moist her eyes were--actually shining in the light!
How that light seemed to concentrate in the corners of the lashes, and
then slipped--a flash--away! Was she? Yes, she was crying.

Cass melted. He moved. Miss Porter put her head out of the window and
drew it back in a moment dry-eyed.

"One meets all sorts of folks traveling," said Cass, with what he
wished to make appear a cheerful philosophy.

"I dare say. I don't know. I never before met any one who was rude to
me. I have traveled all over the country alone, and with all kinds of
people ever since I was so high. I have always gone my own way, without
hindrance or trouble. I always do. I don't see why I shouldn't. Perhaps
other people mayn't like it. I do. I like excitement. I like to see all
that there is to see. Because I'm a girl I don't see why I can't go out
without a keeper, and why I cannot do what any man can do that isn't
wrong; do you? Perhaps you do--perhaps you don't. Perhaps you like a
girl to be always in the house dawdling or thumping a piano or reading
novels. Perhaps you think I'm bold because I don't like it, and won't
lie and say I do."

She spoke sharply and aggressively, and so evidently in answer to
Cass's unspoken indictment against her, that he was not surprised when
she became more direct.

"You know you were shocked when I went to fetch that Hornsby, the
coroner, after we found the dead body."

"Hornsby wasn't shocked," said Cass,