"Heaven knows she's been trying long enough," said Miss Grady. "I heard him ask Doc and Charlie to wait for him, but she nabbed him before he could get out. Now he's got to sit in there and listen to her tell about how interested she is in art,--and him just dyin' for a smoke. Why, there's Alix Crown now. She's comin' in here." A big touring car drew up to the sidewalk in front of the Tavern. Miss Crown sprang lightly out of the seat beside the chauffeur and came up the steps. "How do you do, Mrs. Pollock? Hello, Flora. Good evening, Mr. Editor," was her cheery greeting as she passed by and entered the house. "She comes around every once in a while and takes the Dowd girls out riding in her car," explained Mrs. Pollock. "Mighty nice of her," said Mr. Pollock, taking his feet down from the porch-rail and carefully brushing the cigar ashes off of his coat sleeve. "Takes old Alaska Spigg out too, and the Nicholses, and--" "We've been out with her a great many times," broke in Mrs. Pollock. "I think a Packard is a wonderful car, don't you, Mr. Thane? So smooth and--" "I think I'll take a little stroll," said Courtney abruptly; and snatching up his hat from the floor beside his chair he hurried down the steps. She had not even glanced at him as she crossed the porch. He had the very uneasy conviction that so far as she was concerned he might just as well not have been there at all. In the early dusk, her face was clearly revealed to him. There was nothing cold or unfriendly about it now. Instead, her smile was radiant; her eyes,--even in the subdued light,--glowed with pleasure. Her voice was clear and soft and singularly appealing. In the afternoon's encounter he had been struck by its unexpected combination of English and American qualities; the sharp querulousness of the English and the melodious drawl of the American were strangely blended, and although there had been castigation in her words and manner, he took away with him the disturbing memory of a voice he was never to forget. And now he had seen the smile that even the most envious of her kind described as "heavenly." It was broad and wholesome and genuine. There was a flash of white, even teeth between warm red lips, a gleam of merriment in the half-closed eyes, a gay tilt to the bare, shapely head. Her dark hair was coiled neatly, and the ears were exposed. He liked her ears. He remembered them as he had seen them in the afternoon, fairly large, shapely and close to the head. No need for her to follow the prevailing fashion of the day! She had no reason to hide her ears beneath a mat of hair.