r had drawn back over her ears in the French style.

"Oh, do you like it?" asked Regina eagerly, "I think its hideous. But you
know I lost one of my combs and--but let's go and see what the boys are
doing," she broke off suddenly, turning crimson and hastening to the
porch. Once outside she plunged at once into conversation with the two
boys, and Peggy had no opportunity of picking up the dropped stitches of
conversation. She caught herself puzzling over it. Why had Regina been so
mortified, and apparently alarmed, when she had announced the loss of one
of her side-combs? Right there a strange thought came into Peggy's mind.
The brilliant-studded comb that Roy had picked up! Could it be that--but
no, the idea was too fantastic. In the pages of a book, perhaps, but not
in real life. And yet--and yet--Peggy, as she watched the graceful,
dark-eyed girl talking with splendid animation, found herself
wondering--and wondering.

The next day, just as Peggy and Roy were starting out for a run to the
Bancroft place, Fanning Harding and Regina Mortlake came whizzing up to
the gate in the latter's big touring car--the one in which she had arrived
in Sandy Beach. The machine was the gift of her father. It was a
commodious, maroon-colored car, with a roomy tonneau and fore-doors and
torpedo body of the latest type.

Beside it the Blue Bird looked somewhat small and insignificant. But Roy
and Peggy felt no embarrassment. On the contrary, they were quite certain
the Blue Bird was the better car.

"Where are you off to?" asked Fanning in friendly tones, while Regina
bowed and smiled very sweetly to Peggy.

"Going to take a spin in the direction of the Bancroft's," said Roy,
starting his car.

"What fun," cried Regina Mortlake, "so are we. Let's race."

"I don't believe in racing," rejoined Peggy.

"No, of course it is dangerous," said Fanning, "I guess Roy is a bit timid
with that old car, too. Besides it's all in the way you handle a machine;"

Roy flushed angrily.

"I guess this 'old car,' as you call it, could give yours a tussle if it
comes down to it," he said sharply.

Peggy tugged his sleeve. She saw where this would lead too. She saw, too,
that Fanning was anxious to provoke Roy into a race. Presumably he was
anxious to humiliate the boy in Regina Mortlake's eyes.

"Well, do you want to race then?" asked Regina, provokingly, her fine eyes
flashing, "there's a bit of road beyond here that's quite broad and one
hard