The house was admirably arranged. The great central room, with doors back and front, was called the lounge, and served as both hall and living room. Off this were two smaller rooms: the card room and the music room. To one side of these rooms were the bedrooms, and on the other side, the dining room and kitchen quarters. The furnishings were simple and attractive, with no “Mission” pieces or attempts at camping effects. I sat down on a wide davenport beside Lora, and said, tentatively: “I believe you and I agree in our estimate of the Dallas beauty.” “Then you have real good sense,” exclaimed Lora, heartily. “Kee won’t see her as I do.” “I won’t either,” put in Maud Merrill. “It’s disgraceful to knock a woman just because she’s going to marry a rich man. Rich men want wives as well as poor men. I’m all for Katherine Dallas. You’re jealous, Lora, because she is so beautiful.” Lora only smiled at this, and said: “I’ve really nothing against her, except that I believe she had Alma turned out of her uncle’s house.” “And why not?” demanded Maud Merrill. “No house is big enough for two families; and though I don’t know Miss Remsen well at all, I do know that she is a girl of strong will and decided opinions. They’d never be happy if Alma stayed there.” “I can’t say as to all that,” I put in, determined to have my word, “but I think, with Lora, that the Dallas is a lady of deep finesse and Machiavellian cleverness.” “Yes, just that!” cried Keeley Moore’s wife. “Well, then,” said Maud, “if she snared that millionaire by her cleverness, she deserves her reward. And she deserves a peaceful home, which I doubt she’d have with a young girl bossing around, too.” “Oh, you women!” and Moore wrung his hands in mock despair, “you’re making up all this. You don’t know a thing about it, really.” “We can see,” said Lora, sagely. “And there’s no use prolonging this futile discussion. Time will show you how right I am, and meantime, we’d better all go to bed.” CHAPTER II THE GIRL IN THE CANOE My room at Variable Winds was cheery and comfortable. Bright-hued curtains, painted furniture and bowls full of exquisitely tinted California poppies gave the place a colourful effect that pleased my aesthetic tastes. A perfectly appointed bathroom added to my content and I concluded I would stay with the Moores as long as I could keep my welcome in good working order. Keeley Moore was one of the best if not the best known detectives of the day, and while a quiet vacation would do him good, I was certain he was already itching to get back to his problems and mysteries, with which the city always supplied him. I threw off my coat and put on a dressing gown, for the lake breezes were chill, and sat at a window for a final smoke. I felt at peace with the world. Some houses give you that feeling, just as some others make you unreasonably nervous and irritable.