“Chicago is a most delightful city,” she exclaimed gushingly. “I lived there for many years myself. The young men of Chicago are so bright and manly; it is really a pleasure to meet one of them way out here,” and she flashed such a look at Vance as almost took his breath away. During the twenty minutes the newcomers had to wait to be served the lady ate but little, but she talked and laughed enough to make up the difference. Every little charm she possessed she threw into her conversation, and she made many adroit inquiries of Vance as to when he left Chicago, where he had been before he came to Kansas City, where he expected to go next and when, what his business was, and many other suggestive queries, all of which the boy parried skilfully or replied to as he thought prudent, though he had not the slightest suspicion that the lady had any other object than mere womanly curiosity in asking them. An acute observer would probably have noticed that she was not entirely pleased with the result when the conversation became general. An almost imperceptible signal passed between her and Sid Carrington when that gentleman finally favored her with a significant look of inquiry. He understood at once, and made a remark to Dudley in a low tone, at which the dapper young man shrugged his shoulders. “What do you drink, Thornton?” asked Carrington as the waiter stood by expectantly. “You can have anything you want, but this house is particularly noted for its imported ales. I’ll order a bottle for you.” “I’m sorry,” Vance hastened to say, “but I really don’t drink anything.” “What!” exclaimed Sid, a slight cloud forming on his brow, while Miss Miller looked up in great surprise. “That’s right,” interposed Dudley. “He doesn’t touch anything in that line. I found that out to-day at the Criterion. You’ll take coffee, however, won’t you, Vance?” Vance nodded. “A bottle of your XXX ale, waiter, and a cup of coffee for this gentleman,” said Guy Dudley briskly. The attendant bowed and departed. “So you really don’t drink?” said Miss Miller with an artful smile. “This is quite a surprise to me, for I thought every gentleman indulged in something or other. Now, couldn’t I prevail on you to take just a thimbleful of this light Madeira? As a special favor, with me, you know?” She favored Vance with an arch look as she filled two small wineglasses with the amber liquid, as if to imply it was an honor she was especially according him. “Really, Miss Miller----” protested Vance, feeling much embarrassed. “You will oblige me, won’t you?” She placed one of the glasses close to his fingers and raised the other toward her ruby lips, with a look so seductive as to be almost irresistible. Vance was confused at his position and somewhat bewildered by the coquettish and persistent attitude of the fair lady at his elbow. He felt, without actually seeing, that the eyes of the two gentlemen were fixed upon him at that moment.