“Now don’t be silly!  I knew nothing about your part in the comedy until Doc told me.  You are a most difficult person.”

Slowly she unwrapped the parcel, and then with a gasp lifted a splendidly embroidered kimono from its box.

“Oh-h!” Her eyes were round and astonished.  “Oh-h!  It’s for me!”

It was a regal garment of heavy silk, superbly ornamented with golden dragons, each so cunningly worked that it seemed upon the point of taking wing.  “Why, their eyes glitter!  And—­they’d breathe fire if I jabbed them.  Oh-h!” She stared at the gift in helpless amazement.  “Is it mine, honestly?”

He nodded.  “Won’t you put it on?”

“Over these things?  Never!” Again Miss Appleton blushed, for she recalled that she had prepared for his coming with extraordinary care.  Her boots were even stouter than usual, her skirt more plain, her waist more stiff, and her hair more tightly smoothed back.  “It would take a fluffy person to wear this.  I’ll always keep it, of course, and—­I’ll worship it, but I’m not designed for pretty clothes.  I’ll let Natalie wear—­”

“Natalie has one of her own, done in butterflies, and I brought one to her mother also.”

“And you bought this for me after you had seen that fiendish story over my signature?”

“Certainly!” He quickly forestalled her attempted thanks by changing the subject.  “Now then, Dan tells me you are anxious to begin your magazine-work, so I’m going to arrange for you to see the glaciers and the coal-fields.  It will be a hard trip, for the track isn’t through yet, but—­”

“Oh, I’ll take care of myself; I won’t get in anybody’s way,” she said, eagerly.

“I intend to see that you don’t, by going with you; so make your preparations and we’ll leave as soon as I can get away.”

When he had gone the girl said, aloud: 

“Eliza Violet, this is your chance.  It’s underhanded and mean, but—­you’re a mean person, and the finger of Providence is directing you.”  She snatched up the silken kimono and ran into her room, locking the door behind her.  Hurriedly she put it on, then posed before the mirror.  Next down came her hair amid a shower of pins.  She arranged it loosely about her face, and, ripping an artificial flower from her “party” hat, placed it over her ear, then swayed grandly to and fro while the golden dragons writhed and curved as if in joyous admiration.  A dozen times she slipped out of the garment and, gathering it to her face, kissed it; a dozen times she donned it, strutting about her little room like a peacock.  Her tip-tilted nose was red and her eyes were wet when at last she laid it out upon her bed and knelt with her cheek against it.

“Gee!  If only I were pretty!” she sighed, “I almost believe he—­ likes me.”