that's hard to
help. But people who fall in love gradually through long association
have no good excuse for doing so, if they oughtn't. They should see it
coming and quit seeing each other before it's too late."

"But I don't agree," said Evelyn. "I think love is always a
first-sight affair. I don't mean necessarily the first time two people
see each other, but that suddenly after years of association even, they
will see each other in a new light."

"A light that was never on sea or land?"

"A light that is always where people are, just waiting to be turned on."

At that moment we heard Dawson Cooper's voice calling: "Hallo there!
Where are you?"

Presently he hove into sight, and did not seem altogether pleased at
finding Evelyn and me together.

"Archie thought he was going to ride with Lucy," Evelyn explained, "but
she threw him down, and I suppose we have got to ask him to ride with
us!"

"Yes," I said, "I think you have, but I don't have to accept, do I?
You're just doing it so's not to hurt my feelings, aren't you? Of
course if you really want me----"

"Come along, Coops," said Evelyn. "He's trying to tease us. He
wouldn't ride with us for a farm."

We separated at the mounting-block, and I watched them a little way
down the road. And felt a little touch of envy. Evelyn was looking
very alluring that afternoon.

I rode in the opposite direction until I came to the big open flat
north of the racetrack; there, a long way off, I saw John Fulton and
Lucy walking slowly side by side. John was sabering dead weed stalks
with his stick. So I turned east to avoid them, then north, until I
had passed the forlorn yellow pesthouse with its high, deer-park fence,
and was well out in the country.

Then I left the main road, and followed one tortuous sandy track after
another. Suddenly Heroine shied. I looked up from a deep, aimless
reverie, and saw sitting at the side of a trail a withered old negress.
She looked like a monkey buried in a mound of rags.

"Evening, Auntie," I said.

"Evening, boss."

Heroine had broken into a sweat, and was trembling. She kept her eyes
on the old negress and her ears pointed at her, her nostrils widely
dilated.

"My horse thinks you're a witch, Auntie," I said. "Hope you'll excuse
her."

"I allows I got ter, boss, caze that's jes what I is."

"Honest to Gospel?" I laughed.

"You got fifty cents, boss?"

I found such a coin in my pocket and tossed it to