Sooner or later all have proved the same," she shrugged; "-- --proved themselves men, in plainer words." She sat eating thoughtfully, looking aloft now and then at the thick splendor of the firmament.
Then, breaking a bit of corn bread, she said gravely: "I do not mean that you have not been kind, as men mean kindness.

I do not even mean that I blame men.

God made them different from us.

And had He made me one, doubtless I had been as all men are, taking the road through life as gaily, sword on thigh and hat in hand to every pretty baggage that a kindly fate made wayfarer with me.

No, I have never blamed a man; only the silly minx who listens." After a short silence, I said: "Who, in the name of heaven, are you, Lois ?" "Does that concern you ?" "I would have it concern me--if you wish." "Dear sir," she said very coolly, "I wish nothing of the kind." "You do not trust me." "Why, yes, as I trust every man--except a red one." "Yet, I tell you that all that animates me is a desire to render you a comrade's service----" "And I thank you, Mr.Loskiel, because, like other men, you mean it generously and well.