young man showed."

She glanced at him under her lashes. "What would you have done?"

"I'd take you out to the plains for a year or so, and let you find out a
little about what life is like."

"I don't think it would be a success," she returned. "I don't profit by
discipline, I'm afraid. But," she stood up, "I'm perfectly open minded.
I'll make a beginning. I'll wash the dishes--just to please you."

He watched her go to the kitchen sink, and pour water from the steaming
kettle into a dish pan, saw her turn up her lace-frilled cuffs, and begin
with her long, slim, inefficient hands to take up the dirty plates.
Suddenly, much to his surprise, he found he couldn't bear it, couldn't
bear to see the lace fall down again and again, and her obvious shrinking
from the task.

He crossed the room and took the plates from her, and then with a clean
towel, he deliberately dried her hands, finger by finger, while she stood
by like a docile child, looking up at him in wonder.

"Don't you want to reform me?" she asked plaintively.

"No," he answered shortly.

"Why not?"

"Because you would be too dangerous," he returned. "Now you have every
charm except goodness. If you turned good and gentle you'd be supreme."