He never could account himself for these instinctive likes and dislikes
of his; therefore, they were to be accepted and borne with as something
of him, and yet apart from him; and that was all there was to it.

"I'll tell you what to do, Hugh. You help me work out some new dances,"
she cried. "A lot has been coming to me. One shall be 'Night on the
Desert.' We can get some great effects. Something really artistic for
the big cities, not the old waltz things we have to do for the desert
and mountain villages. We might try that 'Desert Morning' that you've
just been planning to compose, and I've been thinking of another one--a
Cactus Blossom Dance. Something like this." She began to dance.

"Tell me the steps, Pearl; tell me the steps," called the boy
impatiently. "Oh, that's a great idea!" His face was flushed; and then
suddenly it fell. "Oh!" he cried despairingly to Flick, "she always gets
all sorts of ideas for new dances when she's in love--always. I never
knew it fail."

He flung himself away pettishly, and started off alone. Hugh never had
any difficulty about direction. In a locality with which he was familiar
he would walk about with the utmost confidence. Occasionally he would
stop, rap his leg sharply with one hand, listen a moment, and then,
apparently satisfied, walk on. Those who pressed him for an explanation
of this merely received the vague and unilluminating reply that he could
feel the earth that way and tell from the sound of it, probably meaning
the vibration, just where he was.

Pearl and Flick followed him in a more leisurely way, although no word
was spoken between them until they reached home. Pearl's eyes scanned
the house, but it was evident that Hanson had gone, for her mother sat