u look like
an--elf! A bronze and gold elf! You're wonderful! You're magical! You
ought always to dress like that! Somebody ought to tell you about it!
Woodsy, storm-colored clothes with little quick glints of light in
them! Paquin or some of those people could make you famous!"

As spontaneously as he had touched her he jerked his hand away, and,
snatching up the lantern, flashed it bluntly on her astonished face.

For one brief instant her hand went creeping up to the tip of her
chin. Then very soberly, like a child with a lesson, she began to
repeat Barton's impulsive phrases.

"'In this light,'" she droned, "'with your hat pushed back like
that--and your hair fluffed up like that--and the--the--'" More
unexpectedly then than anything that could possibly have happened she
burst out laughing--a little low, giggly, school-girlish sort of
laugh. "Oh, that's easy to remember!" she announced. Then, all one
narrow black silhouette again, she crouched down into the
semi-darkness.

"For a lady," she resumed listlessly, "who rode side-saddle and really
enjoyed hiking 'round all over the sticky face of the globe, my mother
certainly did guess pretty keenly just how things were going to be
with me. I'll tell you what she said to sustain me," she repeated
dreamily, "'Any foolish woman can keep house, but the woman who
travels with your father has got to be able to keep the whole wide
world for him! It's nations that you'll have to put to bed! And suns
and moons and stars that you'll have to keep scoured and bright! But
with the whole green earth for your carpet, and shining heaven for
your roof-tree, and God Himself for your landlord, now wouldn't you be
a fool, if you weren't quite satisfied?'"

"'If--you--weren't--quite satisfied,'" finished Barton mumblingly.

Little Eve Edgarton lifted her great eyes, soft with sorrow, sharp
with tears, almost defiantly to Barton's.

"That's--what--Mother said," she faltered. "But all the same--I'd
RATHER HAVE A HOUSE!"

"Why, you poor kid!" said Barton. "You ought to have a house! It's a
shame! It's a beastly shame! It's a--"

Very softly in the darkness his hand grazed hers.

"Did you touch my hand on purpose, or just accidentally?" asked Eve
Edgarton, without a flicker of expression on her upturned,
gold-colored face.

"Why, I'm sure I don't know," laughed Barton. "Maybe--maybe it was a
little of each."

With absolute gravity little Eve Edgarton kept right on staring at
h