“Pshaw!” said his Heart's Desire, smiling reluctantly. “I'm not afraid. Do you suppose, if Sir Redmond had known--” “Those fellows made quite a haul--almost enough to lease the whole country, if they wanted to. Something over fifty thousand dollars--and a strong box full of sand, that the messenger was going to fool them with. He did, all right; but they weren't so slow. They hustled around and got the money, and he lost his sand into the bargain.” “Was that meant for a pun?” Beatrice blinked her big eyes at him. “If you're quite through with the train-robbers, perhaps you will tell me how--” “I'm glad old Mother Nature didn't give every woman an odd dimple beside the mouth,” Keith observed, reaching for her hat, and running a ribbon caressingly through his fingers. “Why?” Beatrice smoothed the dimple complacently with her finger-tips. “Why? Oh, it would get kind of monotonous, wouldn't it?” “This from a man known chiefly for his pretty speeches!” Beatrice's laugh had a faint tinge of chagrin. “Wouldn't pretty speeches get monotonous, too?” Keith's eyes were laughing at her. “Yours wouldn't,” she retorted, spitefully, and immediately bit her lip and hoped he would not consider that a bid for more pretty speeches. “Be'trice, dis hopper is awf-lly wilted!” came a sepulchral whisper from Dorman. Keith sighed, and went and baited the hook again. When he returned to Beatrice, his mood had changed. “I want you to promise--” “I never make promises of any sort, Mr. Cameron.” Beatrice had fallen back upon her airy tone, which was her strongest weapon of defense--unless one except her liquid-air smile. “I wasn't thinking of asking much,” Keith went on coolly. “I only wanted to ask you not to worry about that leasing business.” “Are you worrying about it, Mr. Cameron?” “That isn't the point. No, I can't say I expect to lose sleep over it. I hope you will dismiss anything I may have said from your mind.” “But I don't understand. I feel that you blame Sir Redmond, when I'm sure he--” “I did not say I blamed anybody. I think we'll not discuss it.” “Yes, I think we shall. You'll tell me all about it, if I want to know.” Beatrice adopted her coaxing tone, which never had failed her. “Oh, no!” Keith laughed a little. “A girl can't always have her own way just because she wants it, even if she--” “I've got a fish, Mr. Cam'ron!” Dorman squealed, and Keith was obliged to devote another five minutes to diplomacy. “I think you have fished long enough, honey,” Beatrice told Dorman decidedly. “It's nearly dinner time, and Looey Sam won't have time to fry your fish if you don't hurry home. Shall I tell Dick you wished to see him, Mr. Cameron?”