had ever come to lean upon any man or woman in the world. She liked him, just how much there had never until now come the need to say. And now, suddenly putting a flush into her cheeks which merely confused her and which misled Embry, there flashed into her thought a picture of the impudent, gay hearted Bill Steele … the man she detested. …
"Let us not speak of this today, please!" she cried hurriedly. "I don't know … I don't think that I could ever care for you that way. I … I am acting like a school girl, and I know it!" she burst out impatiently. "I am ashamed of myself. But … please let's not talk of it now."
Embry bowed, gravely accepting his dear lady's wish as his law. But his eyes had brightened; Beatrice fancied that she saw a look almost of triumph in them. His massive shoulders filled her eyes as he turned away; she noted as she had noted so many a time the masterly carriage. The man was forceful, dynamic … he could push a steady way from little things to big, he could put out his hand for what he wanted, take it and hold it. And now he wanted her. … She wondered, with a puzzled, half frightened look in her eyes, what answer she would give him when he came again?
"Pooh!" she cried out suddenly, whisking about and going to her room. "I am a little fool this morning and Joe Embry is a mere man that I could break between my thumb and finger. What has come over me?"
It was characteristic of Embry that he did not seek to communicate with her again for several days. He
