d always been, not at all
inclined to choose yet among her many anxious suitors. Eugene thought of
her letter to him--wondered if she would look her thoughts into his eyes
when he saw her.

"Oh, Marietta," Angela replied when Eugene asked after her, "she's just
as dangerous as ever. She makes all the men make love to her."

Eugene smiled. Marietta was always a pleasing thought to him. He wished
for the moment that it was Marietta instead of Angela that he was coming
to see.

She was as shrewd as she was kind in this instance. Her appearance on
meeting Eugene was purposely indifferent and her attitude anything but
coaxing and gay. At the same time she suffered a genuine pang of
feeling, for Eugene appealed to her. If it were anybody but Angela, she
thought, how she would dress and how quickly she would be coquetting
with him. Then his love would be won by her and she felt that she could
hold it. She had great confidence in her ability to keep any man, and
Eugene was a man she would have delighted to hold. As it was she kept
out of his way, took sly glances at him here and there, wondered if
Angela would truly win him. She was so anxious for Angela's sake. Never,
never, she told herself, would she cross her sister's path.

At the Blue homestead he was received as cordially as before. After an
hour it quite brought back the feeling of three years before. These open
fields, this old house and its lovely lawn, all served to awaken the
most poignant sensations. One of Marietta's beaux, over from Waukesha,
appeared after Eugene had greeted Mrs. Blue and Marietta, and the latter
persuaded him to play a game of tennis with Angela. She invited Eugene
to make it a four with her, but not knowing how he refused.

Angela changed to her tennis suit and Eugene opened his eyes to her
charms. She was very attractive on the court, quick, flushed, laughing.
And when she laughed she had a charming way of showing her even, small,
white teeth. She quite awakened a feeling of interest--she looked so
dainty and frail. When he saw her afterward in the dark, quiet parlor,
he gathered her to his heart with much of the old ardour. She felt the
quick change of feeling. Marietta was right. Eugene loved gaiety and
color. Although on the way home she had despaired this was much more
promising.

Eugene rarely entered on anything half heartedly. If interested at all
he was greatly interested. He could so yield himself to the glamour of a
situation