good rider always
smiles at the sight of a poor one, when a little retrospection should
make him rather pitying. Hillard went on. The park was not lovely; the
trees were barren, the grass yellow and sodden, and here and there were
grimy cakes of unmelted snow.

"She is so innocent, so youthful!"

He found himself humming the refrain over and over. She had sung it with
abandon, tenderness, lightness. For one glimpse of her face! He took the
rise and dip which followed. Perhaps a hundred yards ahead a solitary
woman cantered easily along. Hillard had not seen her before. He spurred
forward, only faintly curious. She proved to be a total stranger. There
was nothing familiar to his eye in her figure, which was charming. She
rode well. As he drew nearer he saw that she wore a heavy grey veil. And
this veil hid everything but the single flash of a pair of eyes the
color of which defied him. Then he looked at her mount. Ha! there was
only one rangy black with a white throat; from the Sandford stables, he
was positive. But the Sandfords were at this moment in Cairo, so it
signified nothing. There is always some one ready to exercise your
horses, if they happen to be showy ones. He looked again at the rider;
the flash of the eyes was not repeated; so his interest vanished, and he
urged the mare into a sharp run. Twice in the course of the ride he
passed her, but her head never turned. He knew it did not because he
turned to see.

So he went back to his tentative romance. She had passed his window and
disappeared into the fog, and there was a reasonable doubt of her ever
returning from it. The Singer in the Fog; thus he would write it down in
his book of memories and sensibly turn the page. Once down-town he would
countermand his order, and that would be the end of it. At length he
came back to the entrance and surrendered the mare. He was about to
cross the square, when he was hailed.

"Hello, Jack! I say, Hillard!"

Hillard wheeled and saw Merrihew. He, too, was in riding-breeches.

"Why, Dan, glad to see you. Were you in the park?"

"Riverside. Beastly cold, too. Come into the Plaza and join me in a cup
of good coffee."

"Had breakfast long ago, boy."

"Oh, just one cup! I'm lonesome."

"That's no inducement; but I'll join you," replied Hillard cheerfully.

The two entered the cafe, sat down, and Merrihew ordered Mocha.

"How are you behaving yourself these days?" asked Merrihew. He drank
more coffee and smoked