Io nodded. "I suppose so. Though I've never felt it, or the need of it before this. Well, I had to speak before I left, and I suppose I must go on soon." "I shall miss you," said the hostess, and added, smiling, "as one misses a stimulant. Stay through the rest of the month, anyway." "I'd like to," answered Io gratefully. "I've written Delavan that I'm coming back--and now I'm quite dreading it. Do you suppose there ever yet was a woman with understanding of herself?" "Not unless she was a very dull and stupid woman with little to understand," smiled Miss Van Arsdale. "What are you doing to-day?" "Riding down to lunch with your paragon of a station-agent." Miss Van Arsdale shook her head dubiously. "I'm afraid he'll miss his daily stimulant after you've gone. It has been daily, hasn't it?" "I suppose it has, just about," admitted the girl. "The stimulus hasn't been all on one side, I assure you. What a mind to be buried here in the desert! And what an annoying spirit of contentment! It's that that puzzles me. Sometimes it enrages me." "Are you going to spoil what you cannot replace?" The retort was swift, almost fierce. "Surely, you won't blame me if he looks beyond this horizon," protested Io. "Life is sure to reach out in one form or another and seize on him. I told him so." "Yes," breathed the other. "You would." "What were you intending to do with him?" There was a hint of challenge in the slight emphasis given to the query. "I? Nothing. He is under no obligation to me." "There you and he differ. He regards you as an infallible mentor." A twinkle of malice crept into the slumbrous eyes. "Why do you let him wear made-up bow ties?" demanded Io. "What does it matter?" "Out here, nothing. But elsewhere--well, it does define a man, doesn't it?" "Undoubtedly. I've never gone into it with him." "I wonder if I could guess why." "Very likely. You seem preternaturally acute in these matters." "Is it because the Sears-Roebuck mail-order double-bow knot in polka-dot pattern stands as a sign of pristine innocence?" In spite of herself Miss Van Arsdale laughed. "Something of that sort." Io's soft lips straightened. "It's rotten bad form. Why shouldn't he be right? It's so easy. Just a hint--" "From you?" "From either of us. Yes; from me, if you like." "It's quite an intimate interest, isn't it?" "'But never can battle of men compare With merciless feminine fray'"-- quoted Io pensively. "Kipling is a sophomore about women," retorted Miss Van Arsdale. "We're not going to quarrel over Errol Banneker. The odds are too unfair." "Unfair?" queried Io, with a delicate lift of brow. "Don't misunderstand me. I know that whatever you do will be within the rules of the game. That's the touchstone of honor of your kind." "Isn't it good enough? It ought to be, for it's about the only one most of us have." Io laughed. "We're becoming very serious. May I take the pony?" "Yes. Will you be back for supper?"