to conceive that such a position was all this man had ever achieved in life.  And Winston wondered likewise at her, his earlier admiration for the bright attractiveness of face and manner broadening as her mind gave quick response to his leadership.  Here was certainly no commonplace girl of the stage, but an educated, refined, ambitious woman, matured beyond her years by experience, her conversation exhibiting a wide range of reading, interwoven, with a deep knowledge of life.  They spoke of ideals, of art, of literature, of secret aspirations, not often mentioned during such early acquaintanceship, breaking through that mental barrenness which had characterized their living for weeks, this common ground of thought and interest awakening between them an immediate friendliness and frankness of utterance delightfully inspiring.  Almost without comprehending how it occurred they were chatting together as if the eventful years had already cemented their acquaintanceship.  With cheeks flushed and eyes glowing from aroused interest Miss Norvell increased in beauty, and Winston observed her with an admiration finding frank expression in his eyes.

It was a small chapel they sought, situated at the extreme end of the straggling street, and the worshippers were few.  At the conclusion of the ritual and the sermon the two walked forth together in silence, their former brief intimacy a mere memory, neither realizing exactly how best to resume a conversation which had been interrupted by so solemn a service.  It was Miss Norvell who first broke the constraint.

“You are evidently well acquainted with the intricacies of the prayer-book,” she remarked quietly, “and hence I venture to inquire if you are a churchman.”

“Not exactly, although my parents are both communicants, and I was brought up to attend service.”

“Do you know, I am glad even of that?  It is a little additional bond between us merely to feel interested in the same church, isn’t it?  I was guilty during the service of thinking how exceedingly odd it was for us to talk so frankly together this morning when we knew absolutely nothing regarding each other.  Would you mind if I questioned you just a little about yourself?”

He glanced aside at her in surprise, all remembrance that they were comparatively strangers having deserted his mind.  It seemed as if he had already known her for years.

“Most certainly question; I had no thought of any concealment.”

She smiled at the confusedness of his words, yet her own speech was not entirely devoid of embarrassment.

“It does appear almost ridiculous, but really I do not even know your name.”

“It is Ned Winston.”

“Not so bad a name, is it?  Do you mind telling me where your home is?”

“I can scarcely lay claim to such a spot, but my people live in Denver.”

She drew a quick, surprised breath, her eyes instantly falling, as though she would thus conceal some half-revealed secret.  For a moment her parted lips trembled to a question she hesitated asking.