She stood forth different, distinct, a perfectly developed flower, rarely beautiful, although blooming in muck that was overgrown with noxious weeds.

Winston remained clearly conscious that some peculiar essence of her native character had mysteriously perfumed the whole place--it glorified her slight bit of stage work, and had already indelibly impressed itself upon those rough, boisterous Western spirits out in front.

Before her parting lips uttered a line she had thoroughly mastered them, the innate purity of her perfected womanhood, the evident innocence of her purpose, shielding her against all indecency and insult.

The ribald scoffing, the insolent shuffling of feet, the half-drunken uneasiness, ceased as if by magic; and as her simple act proceeded, the stillness out in front became positively solemn, the startled faces picturing an awakening to higher things.

It was a triumph far exceeding the noisy outburst that greeted the Mexican--a moral victory over unrestrained lawlessness won simply by true womanliness, unaided and alone.