ey didn't earn
it. They just got it. What they earned they had to use to live on. This
that is left over is just something my grandfather fell upon through
luck. Then why should it be mine now--any more than yours?"

Ann deemed her intelligence insulted. "That's ridiculous."

"Well now I don't know whether it is or not." She was silent for a
moment, considering it. "But anyhow," she came back to the issue, "we
have our hands on this money, so we'll get the suit. You're in the army
now, Ann. You're enlisted under me, and I'll have no insubordination. You
know--into the jaws of death!--Even so into the jaws of Elizabeth Barrett
Browning--and a tailor-made suit!"

So Katie laughed herself out of the room.

And softly she whistled herself back into the library. The whistling did
not seem to break through the smoke which surrounded Wayne. After several
moments of ostentatious indifference, she threw out at him, with a
conspicuous yawn: "Well, Wayne, what did you think of the terrifying
jeune fille?"

Wayne's reply was long in coming, simple, quiet, and queer: "She's a
lady."

Startled, peculiarly gratified, impishly delighted, she yet replied
lightly: "A lady, is she? Um. Once at school one of the girls said she
had a 'trade-last' for me, and after I had searched the closets of memory
and dragged out that some one had said she had pretty eyes, dressed it up
until this some one had called her ravishingly beautiful--after all that
conscientious dishonesty what does she tell me but that some one had said
I was so 'clean-looking.' One rather takes 'clean-looking' for granted!
Even so with our friends being ladies. Quaint old word for you to
resurrect, Wayne."

"Yes," he laughed, "quite quaint. But she seems to me just that
old-fashioned thing our forefathers called a lady. Now we have good
fellows, and thoroughbreds, and belongers. Not many of this girl's type."

Katie wanted to chuckle. But suddenly the unborn chuckle dissolved into a
sea of awe.

Thoughts and smoke seemed circling around Wayne together; and perhaps the
blue rim of it all was dreams. His face was not what one would expect the
face of a man engaged in making warfare more deadly to be as he
murmured, not to Katie but to the thin outer rim, softly, as to rims
barely material: "And more than that--a woman."

He puzzled her. "Well, Wayne," she laughed, "aren't you getting a
little--cryptic? I certainly told you--by implication--that she was both
a lady