"I am very much pleased that you have come to see me, Mr. Webster," she said. "Thanks, very much, for your kind permission to do so," replied Ralph Webster. She was really scarcely handsome, and yet she gave you the impression that she was so. She had large, restless gray eyes, and rather a pretty, piquant nose, but her mouth was not good. It was too wide, and her smile somewhat saucy and defiant. Yet altogether her appearance was attractive, and many men, it was said, had fallen victims to her charms. "I owe you a debt of gratitude," she went on in her airy fashion, smiling on Ralph Webster; "but for you my character for honesty would be gone." "I trust not quite that." Miss Weir held up her pretty white hands. "I wish you had seen the senior Mr. Jordon's face then, when I offered my poor paste diamonds for his inspection, telling him how much the brooch and earrings had cost. He looked, 'Woman, dare you attempt to impose on me!' if ever a man's thoughts were written on his countenance." "Do you think they often are?" "Yes. All our thoughts are written on our faces at times, but I try to wear a mask when I can; do you?" Ralph Webster laughed a low, soft laugh. "We are forced to hide our thoughts and feelings sometimes," he said. "Do you know I could imagine your doing that with a very strong curb," went on Kathleen Weir, fixing her large gray eyes on Webster's face. "I can fancy you crushing down your strongest feelings and putting your heel on them allegorically. You have a strong will power." "I am not so sure of that." "Oh! yes, you have! If you were in love with a woman, and did not mean to tell her so, you would go away from her, and not flutter around the flame like a weaker man would do." "Suppose my wings were already singed?" laughed Webster. "You would bear the pain and still go. I envy your strength." "But you are imagining it." "No! But here I am forgetting the duties of hospitality to you on your first visit. What will you take; tea, coffee, or some more masculine refreshment. They are standing there in the inner room." And she pointed to the draped archway between the two small drawing-rooms as she spoke. "Thanks, I will not take anything," answered Webster. "May I ask if you wear a concealed bit of blue ribbon? If you are a total abstainer, as I believe they call themselves?" smiled Kathleen Weir. "I can truthfully answer no," said Webster, also smiling. "Have some champagne then." "I will have nothing, thanks." "What were we talking of? Ah, about being able to conceal one's feelings. I can't; I wish I could; I must speak my mind, and it's brought me no end of trouble." "But you are clever enough, I am sure, to get out of trouble." "Not always; I had once to deal with a very peculiar nature, or mine was peculiar perhaps--so he said--but we could not pull together, and that brought me no end of trouble--but I have got over it." And Miss Weir shrugged her handsome shoulders.