unusual and striking musical quality. So
Roberta knew, even before she caught sight of the long, low, powerful
car which had stood many times before her own door during certain weeks
of the last year, that she was about to meet for the first time in two
months the person upon whom she had put a ban.

Would he see her? He could hardly help it, for there was not another
pedestrian in sight upon the whole length of the block, and the March
sunshine was full upon her. As the car came on the girl who walked
sedately to meet it found that her pulses had somehow curiously
accelerated. So this was the route he took, not to go by her home.

Did he see her? Evidently as far away as half a block, for at that
distance his motor-cap was suddenly pulled off, and it was with bared
head that he passed her. At the moment the car was certainly not running
as fast as it had been doing twenty rods back; it went by at a pace
moderate enough to show the pair to each other with distinctness.
Roberta saw clearly Richard Kendrick's intent eyes upon her, saw the
flash of his smile and the grace of his bow, and saw--as if written upon
the blue spring sky--the word he had left with her, "Midsummer." If he
had shouted it at her as he passed, it could not have challenged her
more definitely.

He was obeying her literally--more literally than she could have
demanded. Not to slow down, come to a standstill beside her, exchange at
least a few words of greeting--this was indeed a strict interpretation
of her edict. Evidently he meant to play the game rigorously. Still, he
had been a compellingly attractive figure as he passed; that instant's
glimpse of him was likely to remain with her quite as long as a more
protracted interview. Did he guess that?

"I wonder how I looked?" was her first thought as she walked on--a
purely feminine one, it must be admitted. When she reached home she
glanced at herself in the hall mirror on her way upstairs--a thing she
seldom took the trouble to do.

A figure got hastily to its feet and came out into the hall to meet her
as she passed the door of the reception-room. "Miss Roberta!" said an
eager voice.

"Why, Mr. Westcott! I didn't know you were in town!"

"I didn't intend to be until next month, as you knew. But this wonderful
weather was too much for me."

He held her hand and looked down into her face from his tall height. He
told her what he thought of her appearance--in detail with his eyes, in
modified f