her interest failed. He no longer looked on himself as an
outsider.

Stuart's voice arose from the farther end of the balcony, where
the white figure of Hope showed dimly in the darkness.

``They are talking about you over there,'' said Miss Langham,
turning toward him.

``Well, I don't mind,'' answered Clay, ``as long as they talk
about me--over there.''

Miss Langham shook her head. ``You are very frank and
audacious,'' she replied, doubtfully, ``but it is rather pleasant
as a change.''

``I don't call that audacious, to say I don't want to be
interrupted when I am talking to you. Aren't the men you meet
generally audacious?'' he asked. ``I can see why not--though,''
he continued, ``you awe them.''

``I can't think that's a nice way to affect people,'' protested
Miss Langham, after a pause. ``I don't awe you, do I?''

``Oh, you affect me in many different ways,'' returned Clay,
cheerfully. ``Sometimes I am very much afraid of you, and then
again my feelings are only those of unlimited admiration.''

``There, again, what did I tell you?'' said Miss Langham.