e I'm going to like this party," he said. On other
lips there would have been nothing to laugh at in this; but they all
did laugh. In a minute more, Harry Banks had dropped his book and
crossed over to the fireplace. Bertram, leading the talk now, took him
in without a trace of apparent resentment. Kate, emerging from the
room, dropped down beside Harry Banks on the floor and joined her
cheerful pipe to the symphony of good fellowship. Before luncheon,
this find of hers was the centre of the party; events were revolving
about him.

In the lazy hour after meat, the engaged couple found chance to slip
out into the orange grove. Masters, summoned by his foreman, went to
look after a sick cow, Harry Banks went back to his reading, and Alice
Needham to a design for a window seat which she was building for the
Masters dining-room. These pairings left Bertram and Kate to each
other; and presently they were out-of-doors, drawing on into the
woods. Masters, from the barn, watched them and noted what a goodly
couple, what a faun and dryad in clothes, they were. Kate Waddington
was turning over her shoulder her slow and rather lazy smile, which
began at her lips and lit her green-grey eyes last of all. That was
her best attitude of head. Bertram swung up the trail, making progress
by main force--not walking so much as lifting himself on those sturdy,
saddle-sprung legs of his. He was making wide, sweeping gestures; and
Kate, as he talked, leaned a little toward him now and then, like a
woman absorbed.

Momentarily, she had him on the subject of football. He was touching
upon the subject of one Bill Graham, Stanford tackle and opponent in
two varsity games, whom she knew and whom he was teaching her to know
better. Bertram stooped and gathered a handful of pebbles from the
trail to show how Bill Graham used to throw sand in his eyes; he
thrust his open hand against an alder, bordering the trail, to show
how he contravened these tactics by slamming Bill Graham in the face.
Even so far did loosen his tongue and spirit that he boasted of his
victories and excused his defeats. He went further; he touched upon
the most frightful disappointment of his career.

"It was in the ten to nothing game," said he. "You remember, don't
you, how they had us down on our ten yard line early in the second
half? We got the ball away. Nobody had scored yet. Well, Stuffy Halpin
he gave the signal for a delayed pass on end. That was a freak play we
we