"Shucks! Hard's a gentleman; he won't think he has to be rude to a woman just because he's left alone with her overnight." "It isn't being rude to ask a woman to marry you if you happen to like her, is it?" demanded Polly, with spirit. "It is, under some circumstances," replied Scott, shortly. "You're pretty romantic, aren't you, for a grown-up girl?" "I? Not at all." Polly flushed, indignantly. "But I'm interested when I see two people that I like falling nicely in love with each other." "She's not in love with him or she'd have married him when she had the chance," said Scott, authoritatively. "She's an ambitious woman; what does she want of a man buried in a coal mine?" "She may have changed. That was a long time ago," ventured the girl. "And if she cares for him, she might forget her ambition. Women do, sometimes." "Yes, in books they do," replied Scott, moodily. "But I never saw a woman in her class give up anything she really wanted just to marry a poor man. If she did, she'd probably make him miserable afterward, when she was sorry she'd done it." They rode a while in silence. Polly was hurt and angry. It occurred to her that Scott's objection to her romantic imaginings was based on something deeper than just his usual argumentativeness. Perhaps her imagination had misled her in regard to what had been in his eyes the night before. Or rather, not her imagination, but her vanity. It was a disagreeable thought for one who had promised herself to have done forever with that unpleasant trait. Also, down underneath, there was a hurt that had nothing to do with vanity. Scott rode silently, occupied with his thoughts. He glanced now and then, however, at the slender figure of the girl who rode beside him. She was very pleasing to look upon, with her curly, reddish hair, big dark eyes, delicate features, and smooth tanned skin. Her white hat was pulled down to shade her eyes; her brown coat, trousers and boots wore a jaunty appearance; but it was not altogether of appearances that Scott was thinking. It is possible with some of us to view the outward and the inward at the same time and to render quite unrelated verdicts. Scott had been conscious of doing this before with Polly Street, but of late somehow the verdicts had begun to agree. He was finding the inward Polly quite as attractive as the outward. Had she changed or had he learned to look deeper, he wondered? He had thought her spoiled and superficial, yet possessing undoubtedly worth-while qualities, such as pluck and honesty--things you cannot be deceived in. Now he was finding another side to the girl; a something very sweet and lovable. Was he being led away by the eye of man which is troubled by many things, or was the better side of the girl coming to the surface under different conditions? Was she beginning to care a little for him or was she playing with him as she probably had done with the Henderson boy? Scott set his teeth grimly.