Kendall held her to him close. "Lyn, I never knew until this moment how much I have to humbly thank God for. Oh! if men only could see ahead, young fellows I mean, they would not come to a woman--mutilated. I haven't much to offer, heaven knows, but--well, Lyn, I can offer a clear record to some woman--some day!" All that day Lynda thought of the future. Sitting in her workshop with the toy-like emblems of her craft at hand she thought and thought. It seemed to her, struggling alone, that men and women, after all, walked through life--largely apart. They had built bridges with love and necessity and over them they crossed to touch each other for a space, but oh! how she longed for a common highway where she and Con could walk always together! She wanted this so much, so much! At five o'clock she telephoned to Truedale. She knew he generally went to his apartment at that hour. "I--I want to see you, Con," she said. "Yes, Lyn. Where?" She felt the answer meant much, so she paused. "After dinner, Con, and come right up to--to my workshop." "I will be there--early." Lynda was never more her merry old self than she was at dinner; but she was genuinely relieved when Brace told her he was going out. "What are you going to do, Lyn?" he asked. "Why--go up to my workshop. I've neglected things horribly, lately." "I thought that night work was taboo?" "I rarely work at night, Brace. And you--where are you going?" "Up to Morrell's." Lynda raised her eyebrows. "Mrs. Morrell's sister has come from the West, Lyn. She's very interesting. She's _voted_, and it hasn't hurt her." "Why should it? And"--Lynda came around the table and paused as she was about to go out of the room "I wonder if she could pass the coffee-urn test, on a pinch?" Kendall coloured vividly. "I've been thinking more of my end of the table since I saw her than I ever have before in my life. It isn't all coffee-urn, Lyn." "Indeed it isn't! I must see this little womanly Lochinvar at once. Is she pretty--pretty as Mrs. John?" "Why--I don't know. I haven't thought. She's so different from--every one. She's little but makes you think big. She's always saying things you remember afterward, but she doesn't talk much. She's--she's got light hair and blue eyes!" This triumphantly. "And I hope she--dresses well?" This with a twinkle, for Kendall was keen about the details of a woman's dress. "She must, or I would have noticed." Then, upon reflection, "or perhaps I wouldn't." "Well, good-night, Brace, and--give Mrs. John my love. Poor dear! she came up to ask me yesterday if I could make a small room _look_ spacious! You see, John likes to have everything cluttered--close to his touch. She wants him to have his way and at the same time she wants to breathe, too. Her West is in her blood." "What are you going to do about it, Lyn?" Kendall lighted a cigar and laughed.