"It was only her voice that interested me!" he exclaimed aloud. "She's probably like the rest of them." The nettle of one woman's fickleness had stung so deeply when he first took to the primrose path of love that he had never gone farther along the road leading to the solving of life's enigma, and now the overgrowth of other interests had almost obliterated the trail. Although the days at Helena were busy ones for Philip Danvers, he found time before the convention to make his dinner call at the Latimer's. On the shaded lawn before the house he found Miss Blair entertaining little Arthur while she kept watch over the baby asleep in its carriage. "Mrs. Latimer is away for the afternoon. She will be sorry to have missed you," exclaimed the girl, as Arthur ran to greet the visitor, always a favorite. "You called on Aunt Winnie and me! Didn't you? Didn't you?" chanted the boy, tugging at the hand of the visitor. "May I stay?" asked Danvers, smiling at the eager little man. "And how is the sprain?" "Of course you may," assented Winifred brightly. "And as for the sprained ankle, wicked and deceitful creature that I am, I made it the excuse for not going with Mrs. Latimer. Good people, really good people, would think that I merited punishment for not doing my duty in my small sphere of life. Yet see! Instead of that I'm rewarded--here _you_ come to entertain Arthur and me!" "It is a bad example!" decided Danvers, with a stern eye that did not deceive anyone. He was amused at her naivete, and had no wish to decry such open good-will. "But I do limp! Don't I, Arthur?" Miss Blair appealed to the child, gravely. He nodded and stooped to examine the low, narrow shoe, peeping from her sheer summer gown. Winifred pulled the foot back with a sudden flush. "I am, perhaps, helping along in this world as much as though I were playing cards, by staying with the children instead of their being with the maid," she said hastily. Philip leaned over to look at the baby. Arthur pulled the parasol to one side proudly. "Her name is Winifred," he announced. "I believe I never saw a really little baby before," said Danvers, looking with awe at the tiny sleeper. "My sister and I were near of an age; we grew up together. How _little_ babies are!" Miss Blair laughed. "Winifred is a very nice baby--big for her few months of life. I'm very proud to be her godmother." Danvers watched as she pulled the fleecy covering around the sleeping child. With the act a maternal look came into her lovely face, unconscious as she was of scrutiny, and a thrill of manhood shook him deeply. "So you did not care for the party?" inquired the caller, presently. "I thought all ladies adored card parties and enjoyed fighting for the prizes." "Play cards when the mountains look like that?" Winifred rejoined. "It would be a sacrilege!" "I do not care for cards myself," agreed Danvers. "Wouldn't you like to be out there?" Winifred seemed scarcely to have heard him.