Though she spoke gaily, making a jest of her struggle, she saw the gravity of his face deepen until his features looked almost wooden. "And through it all you kept something that so many other women seem to lose when they work for a living," he said. "You've kept your--your charm." Again she found herself on the point of exclaiming frankly: "heaven knows I've tried to!"--and again, checking herself, she proceeded cautiously: "I've never understood why charm should be merely a hothouse flower." "I suppose it does depend a good deal upon a sunny temper," he rejoined in his blindness. They had reached the gate, and stopping him when he would have entered, she said with the directness of a man: "So we're friends, and you're coming to see me?" "Yes, I'm coming," he replied gravely. Then, standing beside the gate, he watched her while she went up the walk and opened the door with her key. Upstairs, with her knitting on her lap and her feet on the fender, Miss Polly looked up to observe: "You're late, Gabriella. You must have walked all the way." "Yes, I walked all the way. Mr. O'Hara joined me." "Where did you run across him?" "Just as I left the shop. He was walking down Fifth Avenue." "Do you reckon he was waitin' outside?" "Oh, no, he said he had been up to Fifty-ninth Street on business." "Well, the walk certainly did you good. You are bloomin' like a rose." "The air was delicious, and I really like talking to Mr. O'Hara. He is quite interesting after you get over the first impression, and he isn't nearly so ignorant about things as I imagined. He has thought a great deal even if he hasn't read very much. It's wonderful, isn't it, what the West can do with a man? Now, if he'd stayed in New York he would have been merely impossible, but because he has lived out of doors he has achieved a certain distinction. I can understand a woman falling in love with him just because of his force and his bigness. They are the qualities a woman likes most, I think." "He must have made a great deal of money." "Yes, he's rich, and that's a good thing. I like money tremendously, though I used to think that I didn't. I wonder if he had been poor if I should have liked him quite so much?" she asked herself honestly. "I don't 'spose you could ever--ever bring yourself to think of him, honey? It would be a mighty good thing in some ways." Gabriella, being in a candid mood, pondered the question without subterfuge or evasion. "Of course I've passed the sentimental age," she answered. "If Mr. O'Hara had been poor, I suppose I should never have thought of him; but his money does make a difference. It stands for success, achievement, and ability, and I like all those qualities. Then he is rough in many ways, but he isn't a bit vulgar. He has genuine character. There is absolutely no pretence about him." "You could catch him in a minute," replied Miss Polly hopefully, animated by the inveterate match-making instinct of her class.