Her Prairie Knight
women who adhere to the theory of First Impressions, in capitals, continued to regard him as an incipient outlaw, who would, in time and under favorable conditions, reveal his true character, and vindicate her keen insight into human nature. There was one thing which Mrs. Lansell never forgave Keith Cameron, and that was the ruin of her watch, which refused to run while she was in Montana.
That night, when Beatrice was just snuggling down into the delicious coolness of her pillow, she heard some one rap softly, but none the less imperatively, on her door. She opened one eye stealthily, to see her mother's pudgy form outlined in the feeble moonlight.
"Beatrice, are you asleep?"
Beatrice did not say yes, but she let her breath out carefully in a slumbrous sigh. It certainly sounded as if she were asleep.
"Be-atrice!" The tone, though guarded, was insistent.
The head of Beatrice moved slightly, and settled tack into its little nest, for all the world like a dreaming, innocent baby.
If she had not been the mother of Beatrice, Mrs. Lansell would probably have gone back to her
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