But the tailored woman tourist did not need to urge George to look.
There was something about the girl on the quick-stepping, spirited
horse that challenged attention. The khaki-clad figure was so richly
alive--there was such a wealth of vitality; such an abundance of
young woman's strength; such a glow of red blood expressed in every
curved line and revealed in every graceful movement--that the
attraction was irresistible. To look at Barbara Worth was a
pleasure; to be near her was a delight,

At the Pioneer Bank the girl cheeked her horse and, swinging lightly
to the ground, threw the reins over the animal's head, thus tying
him in western fashion. As she stood now on the sidewalk laughing
and chatting with a group of friends, who had paused in passing to
greet her, her beautiful figure lost none of the compelling charm
that made her, on horseback, so good to look at. Every movement and
gesture expressed perfect health. The firm flesh of her rounded
cheeks and full throat was warmly browned and glowing with the
abundance of red blood in her veins. Though framed in a mass of
waving brown hair under a wide sombrero, her features were not
pretty. The mouth was perhaps a bit too large, though it was a good
mouth, and, as she laughed with her companions, revealed teeth that
were faultless. But something looked out of her brown eyes and made
itself felt in every poise and movement that forced one to forget to
be critical. It was the wholesome, challenging lure of an unmarred
womanhood.

"Oh, Barbara, how could you--how _could_ you miss last Thursday
afternoon at Miss Colson's? We had a perfectly lovely time!" cried a
vivacious member of the little group.