"Only very confidentially. When I was riding for a cow outfit I used to
sing at night, when the cattle were bedded down. Sort of tradition of
the business that it kept 'em quiet. They didn't seem to mind my voice.
And that's really the most encouragement I ever got."

Mrs. Wade asked Clyde to play. She complied at once, without
hesitation. They applauded her. Afterward one of the men sang, to her
accompaniment. Then she and Dunne drifted together once more.

"I liked your playing," he said, "but not what you played. It had no
tune."

"It was Beethoven!"

"All the same, it had no tune. I like the old songs--the ones I can
follow in my mind with the words I know."

"Why, so do I," she admitted; "but, my Philistine friend, I was
expected to play the other kind."

"I understand that. But I like to hear what is low grade enough for me
to appreciate. I don't get much music at home."

"Tell me about your ranch. I'd like to know what you do and how you
live. To begin with, beggin' yer honour's pardon in advance, is there a
Mrs. Dunne?"

"No such luck," he replied. He sketched the ranch routine briefly. She
was interested, asking many questions. The evening wore away. The
guests began to depart. But Clyde had arranged to stay the night with
the Wades.

"By the way," she said, "I still have your ten-dollar bill. I will send
it to you."

"Don't do that. Keep it."

"I couldn't."

"Of course you can. You may pay me interest if you like."

"At what per cent?"

"Current rates in my country--eight."

"Very well," she laughed. "It's a bargain. But where is your security?"

He considered gravely. "Certainly I should have something. I will be
satisfied with that rose you are wearing."

Clyde coloured slightly, glancing at him swiftly.

"Kitty," she called to Mrs. Wade, "I want you as a witness. Mr. Dunne
has made me a loan. His security is this rose--and nothing more. Please
witness that I give it to him."

And later that night Kitty Wade said to her lord:

"For a rancher, Harry, your Casey Dunne has class. I never knew Clyde
Burnaby to give a flower to any man before."

"And you see a case of love at first sight," said Wade, scornfully and
sleepily. "Pshaw, Kitty, you're barking at a knot. Casey's a fine chap,
but Lord! she's got too much money for him. Suppose she did give him a
rose! Didn't she call you over to chaperon the transaction? That puts
the sentimental theory out of business."

"And that's all a