ltivate the mood to say yes, before those others
arrive."

She glanced up at him, shaking her dark hair, her lips smiling. "My
present mood is certainly a good-natured one," she confessed, softly,
"and consequently it is impossible to say no."

His hand pressed hers, as the thronging couples came merrily up the
steps.

"Why, Naida, is this you, child? Where have you been all this time?"
It was Miss Spencer, clinging to Mr. Wynkoop's arm.

"Merely sitting out a dance," was the seemingly indifferent answer;
then she added sweetly, "Have you ever met my friend, Lieutenant Brant,
of the Seventh Cavalry, Phoebe? We were just going in to supper."

Miss Spencer's glance swept over the silent young officer. "I believe
I have had the honor. It was my privilege to be introduced to the
gentleman by a mutual friend."

The inward rush of hungry guests swept them all forward in laughing,
jostling confusion; but Naida's cheeks burned with indignation.

CHAPTER VIII

THE REAPPEARANCE OF AN OLD FRIEND

After supper the Lieutenant and Naida danced twice together, the young
girl's mood having apparently changed to one of buoyant, careless
happiness, her dark eyes smiling, her lips uttering freely whatever
thought came uppermost. Outwardly she pictured the gay and merry
spirit of the night, yet to Brant, already observing her with the
jealousy of a lover, she appeared distrait and restless, her
affectation of abandon a mere mask to her true feelings. There was a
peculiar watchfulness in her glances about the crowded room, while her
flushed cheeks, and the distinctly false note in her laughter, began to
trouble him not a little. Perhaps these things might have passed
unnoted but for their contrast with the late confidential chat.

He could not reconcile this sudden change with what he believed of her.
It was not carried out with the practised art of one accustomed to
deceit. There must be something real influencing her action. These
misgivings burdened his mind even as he swung lightly with her to the
music, and they talked together in little snatches.

He had forgotten Miss Spencer, forgotten everything else about him,
permitting himself to become enthralled by this strange girl whose name
even he did not know. In every way she had appealed to his
imagination, awakening his interest, his curiosity, his respect, and
even now, when some secret seemed to sway her conduct, it merely served
to strengthen his resol