, and Dorothy, after sparkling for a jealous moment, softened
to be in sympathy with Richard.

And the strange thing was that neither had ever said one word of love to
the other. They had begun to love at sight, taking each other for
granted, worshiping frankly, sweetly, with the candid, innocent
informality of barbarians to whom the conventional was the unknown.
After all, why not? Isn't word of eye as sacred as word of mouth?

Bess returned to them from the hall.

"I say, Bess!" bleated Mr. Fopling anxiously.

"In a moment, child!" returned Bess, in maternal tones.

Mr. Fopling relapsed, while Richard was amused. Some corner of Richard's
amusement must have stuck out to attract the notice of Bess. She met it
finely, undisturbed.

"Some day, Mr. Storms," beamed Bess, as though replying to a question,
"I shall talk to you on marriage and husbands."

"Why not on marriage and wives?"

"Because I would not speak of the philosopher and the experiment, but of
the experiment and the result. Marriage is a cause; the husband an
effect. Husbands are artificial and made by marriage. Wives, like poets,
are born, not made. I shall talk to you on marriage and husbands; I have
some original ideas, I assure you."

"Now I can well believe that!" declared Richard, much tumbled about in
his mind. Bess's harangue left him wondering whether she might not be
possessed of a mild mania on wedlock and husbands.

"You need have no misgivings," returned Bess, as though reading his
thoughts; "you will find me sane to the verge of commonplace."

Richard's stare was the mate to Mr. Fopling's; he could not decide just
how to lay hold on the sibyl of the golden locks. Perceiving him
wandering in his wits, Dorothy took him up warmly.

"Can't you see Bess is laughing at you?" she cried.

"You know her so much better than I," argued Richard, in extenuation of
his dullness. "Some day I hope to be so well acquainted with Miss
Marklin as to know when she laughs."

"You are to know her as well as I do," returned Dorothy, with decision,
"for Bess is my dearest friend."

"And that, I'm sure," observed Richard, craftily measuring forth a
two-edged compliment, "is the highest possible word that could be spoken
of either."

At this speech Dorothy was visibly disarmed; whereat Richard
congratulated himself.

"To be earnest with you, Mr. Storms," said Bess, with just a flash of
teasing wickedness towards Dorothy, "I go about, even now, carryin