ing in dignity, does he?" she asked,
regarding him merrily, and with a dare in her eyes.

"Well, now really," he began, and then, seeing the look of warning in her
face, he laughed softly. "Why, really, I think that you must be much more
dignified than you were five years ago."

"That's such a neat evasion that I hardly know whether to be angry or
not," she retorted, and then turned to Miss Ritchie, who was smiling.

"Grace," she cried, "for goodness sake, say something! You don't want me
to do all the talking, do you?" and before her friend could say a word
she began a new attack, her eyes sparkling at the fun she was having.

"What have you done since I told you to behave yourself?" she asked,
assuming a judicial seriousness which was extremely comical.

He laughed heartily, for she was so droll, her eyes flashing so with
vivacity, and so rarely beautiful that he breathed deep in unconscious
effort to absorb some of the atmosphere she had created. And he was not
alone in his mirth, for Helen's audacity had caused smiles to come to
Miss Ritchie and Mrs. Shields, who were content to take no part in the
conversation, and even Mary forgot to be serious.

"Well, I haven't had time to do much," he replied in humble apology,
"although I have been occupied in a desultory way on the Cross Bar-8 for
a week, and before that I was quite busily engaged in traveling for my
health. You see, this climate occasionally affects me, and I am forced
to go south or west for a change of air. I was just starting out on my
last trip when I first met you, and I have reason to believe that my
promptness in leaving you saved me much annoyance. But I have cooked
quite a few meals in the interim--and I've learned how mutton should be
broiled, too. I'll have to confess, however, that I have been out late
nights. But then, I'll have a better record to report next time, honest I
will."

Helen leveled an accusing finger at him: "You spoiled all the cooking
utensils on that ranch, and you scared that poor cook so bad that he fled
in terror of his life and left those poor, tired men to get all their
own meals. Now, that was not right, do you see? The poor cook, he was
almost frightened to death. I am almost ashamed of you; you will have
to promise that you will not do anything like that again."

"I promise, cross my heart," he replied eagerly, thinking of the five dead
punchers she had been kind enough to overlook. "I solemnly promise never
to s