He grinned. "More or less always," was his reply. "I never lie in October." "And the other eleven months of the year?" "Oh, I merely change the wording. In July I say 'I never lie in July,'--and so on throughout the twelve-month. I don't slight a single month. By the by, I hope I didn't pop in too far ahead of time this afternoon. You asked me to come at four. I'm half an hour early. Were you occupied with anything--" "I was not busy. A few letters,--but they can wait." He caught the faint shadow of a cloud as it flitted across her eyes. "They are all personal,--nothing important in any of them, I am sure." She shot a quick glance at the folded check and, arising abruptly, went over to the table where, with apparent unconcern, she ran through the little pile of letters. He saw her pick up the check and thrust it into the pocket of her sport skirt. Then she returned to the fireplace. The cloud was on her brow again as she stared darkly into the crackling flames. He knew now that it was Strong's letter she had destroyed in anger. He would have given much to know what the man she despised so heartily had written to her. If he could have seen that brief note he would have read: DEAR ALIX: I enclose my checque for two-fifty. If all goes well I hope to clean up the indebtedness by the first of the year. In any case, I am sure it can be accomplished by early spring. You may thank the flu for my present prosperity. It has been pretty bad here in the East again, although not so virulent as before. Please credit me with the amount. This leaves me owing you five hundred dollars. It should not take long to wipe it out entirely, interest and all. Sincerely yours, DAVID. Courtney eyed her narrowly as she stood for a moment looking into the fire before resuming her seat. He realized that her thoughts were far away and that they were not pleasant. "It's queer," he said presently, "that you have never learned to smoke." She started slightly at the sound of his voice. As she turned to sit down, he went on: "Almost every girl I know smokes. I will not say that I like to see it,--especially in restaurants and all that sort of thing,--but it's rather jolly if there's a nice, cosy fire like this,--see what I mean? Sort of intimate, and friendly, and--soothing. Don't you want to try one now?" "Thank you, no. If it weren't so shocking, I think I should like to learn how to smoke a pipe,--but I suppose that isn't to be thought of. Somehow I feel that a pipe might be a pal, a good old stand-by, or even a relative,--something to depend upon in all sorts of weather, fair and foul. I've noticed that the men on the place who smoke pipes appear to be contented and jolly and good humoured,--and efficient. Yes, I think I should like to smoke a pipe." "Would you like me better if I cut out the cigarettes, and took up the pipe of peace--and contentment?" he inquired thoughtfully. "I doubt it," she replied, smiling. "I can't imagine you smoking a pipe."