"You bold, bad man!" Edith pointed her finger at him in mock-reproach. "I sha'n't dare go on with the lesson until I've forgotten your threatening attitude! Now let's see if a little turn on the piazza won't give us courage to continue." Cosden assented with alacrity. "Splendid notion!" he exclaimed; "that will give me a chance to cool off." "You are warm," she admitted, looking him over critically and noting that his collar was completely wrecked. "You must read the Polite Book of Dancing Etiquette--" "Oh, Lord!" Cosden groaned. "You will find there many useful suggestions which will add to your popularity with your partners. For instance, it tells you that when overheated by the exercise you should stand erect and throw your chin out; then the perspiration will run down the back of your neck and be less noticeable.--Come now, see what a light Bermuda breeze will do to cheer you up." Edith was well pleased with the results of the first lesson. She had felt some misgivings, for Cosden was the most masterful man she had ever met. If this masterfulness could not be broken down, then her plans could not be carried out; but she recalled the fact that Henry Thatcher, so pliable in his wife's hands, was spoken of as dictatorial and self-confident in his business relations. If this was true of Thatcher, it might be equally true of Cosden, and the experiment was well worth trying. In the hour just past Edith had proved her sagacity to herself. Cosden explained his present docility by saying that he always obeyed his doctor's orders; Edith had discovered in that brief time two facts unknown even to himself: that his confidence came only from a knowledge of his own strength, that in treading new and unknown paths he was not only willing to be led but accepted guidance gratefully. After this important discovery, she intuitively came to a better understanding of the man. "Men know more than they understand, and women understand more than they know," some one has tritely said. Edith Stevens was a woman, and understanding was enough; she did not crave to know. When Cosden stated so flatly, "I always get what I go after," she had thought him a tactless braggart, who deserved to be shown his place; now, with this new light thrown upon his character, she understood his remark quite differently. The man knew but one way to accomplish his purpose, and that was to go directly at it, head-on, overpowering opposition by the force of his momentum. In his beginnings, Edith surmised, he had not always felt so confident, and these bold assertions were made partly to give himself additional courage and partly to conceal from the world the existence of any doubt as to his ultimate success. What had been first a policy became a habit, and if Edith were correct in her analysis Cosden was at the present moment repeating his early experiences. * * * * *