"It spoils everything when one has to show you where the point is," he said; and Hetty, looking up, saw Cheyne and Flora Schuyler in the doorway. "Miss Newcombe is looking for you, Mr. Allonby," said the latter. There was very little approval in the glance Hetty bestowed upon Miss Schuyler and Allonby seemed to understand it. "She generally is, and that is why I'm here," he said. "I don't feel like hearing about any more lepidoptera to-night, and you can take her Captain Cheyne instead. He must have found out quite a lot about beetles and other things that bite you down in Arizona." Miss Schuyler, disregarding Hetty, laughed. "You had better go," she said. "I see her coming in this direction now, and she has something which apparently contains specimens in her hand." Allonby fled, but he turned a moment in the doorway. "Do you think you could get me a real lively tarantula, Captain Cheyne?" he said. "If a young lady with a preoccupied manner asks you anything about insects, tell her you have one in your pocket. It's the only thing that will save you." He vanished with Miss Schuyler, and Hetty, somewhat against her wishes, found herself alone with Cheyne. He was deeply sunburned, and his face thinner than it had been, but the quiet smile she had once found pleasure in was still in his eyes. "Your young friend did his best, and I am half afraid he had a hint," he said. Hetty blushed. "I am very pleased to see you," she said hastily. "How did you like New Mexico?" "As well as I expected," Cheyne answered with a dry smile. "It is not exactly an enchanting place--deformed mountains, sun glare, adobe houses, loneliness, and dust. My chief trouble, however, was that I had too much time to think." "But you must have seen somebody and had something to do." "Yes," Cheyne admitted. "There was a mining fellow who used to come over and clean out my whiskey, and sing gruesome songs for hours together to a banjo that had, I think, two strings. I stayed out all night quite frequently when I had reason to believe that he was coming. Then, we killed a good many tarantulas--and a few equally venomous pests--but when all was done it left one hours to sit staring at the sage-brush and wonder whether one would ever shake off the dreariness of it again." "It must have been horribly lonely," Hetty said. "Well," said Cheyne, very slowly, "there was just one faint hope that now and then brightened everything for me. I thought you might change. Perhaps I was foolish--but that hope would have meant so much to me. I could not let it go." Hetty turned and looked at him with a softness in her eyes, for the little tremor in his voice had touched her. "And I was hoping you had forgotten," she said. "No," said Cheyne quietly. "I don't think I ever shall. You haven't a grain of comfort to offer me?"