roll over and over with it in a mad orgy of delight. A shadow, a string, a flicker of metal was the signal for a frolic. Let one's mood be austere as a monk's, with a single twist of her absurdly tiny body this small creature shattered its gravity to atoms. There was no such thing as dignity in Jezebel's presence. Already three times Bob Morton had lifted the mite off the table and three times back she had come, leaping in the path of his gleaming plane as if its metallic whir and glimmering reflections were designed solely for her amusement. In spite of his annoyance the man had laughed and now, stooping, he caught up the tormentor and held her aloft. 

 "You minx!" he cried, shaking the sprite gently.  "What do you think I am here for—to play with you?" 

 The kitten blinked at him out of her round blue eyes. 

 "You'll be getting your fur mittens cut off the next thing you know," went on Bob severely.  "Scamper out of here!" 

 He set the little creature on the floor, aimed her toward the doorway and gave her a stimulating push. 

 With a coquettish leap headlong into the sunshine darted Jezebel, only to come suddenly into collision with a stranger who had crossed the grass and was at that instant about to enter the workshop. 

 The newcomer was a girl, tall and slender, with lustrous masses of dark hair that swept her cheek in wind-tossed ringlets. She had a complexion vivid with health, an undignified little nose and a mouth whose short upper lip lent to her face a half childish, half pouting expression. But it was in her eyes that one forgot all else,—eyes large, brown, and softly deep, with a quality that held the glance compellingly. Her gown of thin pink material dampened by the sea air clung to her figure in folds that accentuated her lithe youthfulness, and as she stumbled over the kitten in full flight she broke into a delicious laugh that showed two rows of pretty, white teeth and lured from hiding an alluring dimple. 

 "You ridiculous little thing!" she exclaimed, snatching up the fleeing culprit before she could make her escape and placing her in the warm curve of her neck.  "Do you know you almost tripped me up? Where are your manners?" 

 Jezebel merely stared. So did Robert Morton. 

 The girl and the kitten were too disconcerting a spectacle. By herself Jezebel was tantalizing enough; but in combination with the 

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