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these poems？〃 repeated the editor。
〃Which her name is Delatour；the widder Delatour；ez she has
herself give me permission to tell you；〃 continued Mr。 Bowers； with
a certain abstracted and automatic precision that dissipated any
suggestion of malice in the reversed situation。
〃Delatour！a widow！〃 repeated the editor。
〃With five children；〃 continued Mr。 Bowers。 Then； with unalterable
gravity； he briefly gave an outline of her condition and the
circumstances of his acquaintance with her。
〃But I reckoned YOU might have known suthin' o' this； though she
never let on you did；〃 he concluded； eying the editor with troubled
curiosity。
The editor did not think it necessary to implicate Mr。 Hamlin。 He
said； briefly； 〃I？ Oh； no！〃
〃Of course； YOU might not have seen her？〃 said Mr。 Bowers； keeping
the same grave； troubled gaze on the editor。
〃Of course not；〃 said the editor； somewhat impatient under the
singular scrutiny of Mr。 Bowers； 〃and I'm very anxious to know how
she looks。 Tell me； what is she like？〃
〃She is a fine； pow'ful； eddicated woman；〃 said Mr。 Bowers； with
slow deliberation。 〃Yes； sir；a pow'ful woman； havin' grand ideas
of her own； and holdin' to 'em。〃 He had withdrawn his eyes from
the editor； and apparently addressed the ceiling in confidence。
〃But what does she look like； Mr。 Bowers？〃 said the editor；
smiling。
〃Well； sir； she looksLIKEIT！ Yes；〃with deliberate caution；
〃I should say； just like it。〃
After a pause； apparently to allow the editor to materialize this
ravishing description； he said； gently； 〃Are you busy just now？〃
〃Not very。 What can I do for you？〃
〃Well； not much for ME； I reckon；〃 he returned； with a deeper
respiration； that was his nearest approach to a sigh； 〃but suthin'
perhaps for yourself andanother。 Are you married？〃
〃No；〃 said the editor； promptly。
〃Nor engaged to anyyoung lady？〃with great politeness。
〃No。〃
〃Well； mebbe you think it a queer thing for me to say；mebbe you
reckon you KNOW it ez well ez anybody；but it's my opinion that
White Violet is in love with you。〃
〃With me？〃 ejaculated the editor； in a hopeless astonishment that
at last gave way to an incredulous and irresistible laugh。
A slight touch of pain passed over Mr。 Bowers's dejected face； but
left the deep outlines set with a rude dignity。 〃It's SO；〃 he
said； slowly； 〃though； as a young man and a gay feller； ye may
think it's funny。〃
〃No； not funny； but a terrible blunder； Mr。 Bowers； for I give you
my word I know nothing of the lady and have never set eyes upon
her。〃
〃No； but she has on YOU。 I can't say；〃 continued Mr。 Bowers； with
sublime naivete； 〃that I'd ever recognize you from her description；
but a woman o' that kind don't see with her eyes like you and me；
but with all her senses to onct； and a heap more that ain't senses
as we know 'em。 The same eyes that seed down through the brush and
ferns in the Summit woods； the same ears that heerd the music of
the wind trailin' through the pines； don't see you with my eyes or
hear you with my ears。 And when she paints you； it's nat'ril for a
woman with that pow'ful mind and grand idees to dip her brush into
her heart's blood for warmth and color。 Yer smilin'； young man。
Well； go on and smile at me； my lad； but not at her。 For you don't
know her。 When you know her story as I do； when you know she was
made a wife afore she ever knew what it was to be a young woman；
when you know that the man she married never understood the kind o'
critter he was tied to no more than ef he'd been a steer yoked to a
Morgan colt； when ye know she had children growin' up around her
afore she had given over bein' a sort of child herself； when ye
know she worked and slaved for that man and those children about
the househer heart； her soul； and all her pow'ful mind bein' all
the time in the woods along with the flickering leaves and the
shadders；when ye mind she couldn't get the small ways o' the
ranch because she had the big ways o' Natur' that made it；then
you'll understand her。〃
Impressed by the sincerity of his visitor's manner； touched by the
unexpected poetry of his appeal； and yet keenly alive to the
absurdity of an incomprehensible blunder somewhere committed； the
editor gasped almost hysterically；
〃But why should all this make her in love with ME？〃
〃Because ye are both gifted；〃 returned Mr。 Bowers； with sad but
unconquerable conviction； 〃because ye're both； so to speak； in a
line o' idees and business that draws ye together；to lean on each
other and trust each other ez pardners。 Not that YE are ezakly her
ekal；〃 he went on； with a return to his previous exasperating
naivete； 〃though I've heerd promisin' things of ye； and ye're still
young； but in matters o' this kind there is allers one ez hez to be
looked up to by the other；and gin'rally the wrong one。 She looks
up to you； Mr。 Editor；it's part of her po'try；ez she looks down
inter the brush and sees more than is plain to you and me。 Not；〃
he continued； with a courteously deprecating wave of the hand； 〃ez
you hain't bin kind to hermebbe TOO kind。 For thar's the purty
letter you writ her； thar's the perlite； easy； captivatin' way you
had with her gals and that boyhold on！〃as the editor made a
gesture of despairing renunciation；〃I ain't sayin' you ain't
right in keepin' it to yourself；and thar's the extry money you
sent her every time。 Stop！ she knows it was EXTRY； for she made a
p'int o' gettin' me to find out the market price o' po'try in
papers and magazines； and she reckons you've bin payin' her four
hundred per cent。 above them figgershold on！ I ain't sayin' it
ain't free and liberal in you； and I'd have done the same thing；
yet SHE thinks〃
But the editor had risen hastily to his feet with flushing cheeks。
〃One moment； Mr。 Bowers；〃 he said； hurriedly。 〃This is the most
dreadful blunder of all。 The gift is not mine。 It was the
spontaneous offering of another who really admired our friend's
work；a gentleman who〃 He stopped suddenly。
The sound of a familiar voice； lightly humming； was borne along the
passage； the light tread of a familiar foot was approaching。 The
editor turned quickly towards the open door；so quickly that Mr。
Bowers was fain to turn also。
For a charming instant the figure of Jack Hamlin； handsome；
careless； and confident； was framed in the doorway。 His dark eyes；
with their habitual scorn of his average fellow…man； swept
superciliously over Mr。 Bowers； and rested for an instant with
caressing familiarity on the editor。
〃Well； sonny； any news from the old girl at the Summit？〃
〃No…o；〃 hastily stammered the editor； with a half…hysterical laugh。
〃No； Jack。 Excuse me a moment。〃
〃All right； busy； I see。 Hasta manana。〃
The picture vanished； the frame was empty。
〃You see；〃 continued the editor； turning to Mr。 Bowers； 〃there has
been a mistake。 I