been trying to account for her presence at
the meeting, until Austen had begged him to keep his speculations to
himself. "She can't be engaged to him!" Mr. Gaylord had exclaimed more
than once, under his breath. "Why not?" Austen had answered; "there's a
good deal about him to admire." "Because she's got more sense," said Tom
doggedly. Hence he was at a loss for words when she greeted him.

"Well, Mr. Gaylord," she said, "you see no bones were broken, after
all. But I appreciated your precaution in sending the buggy behind me,
although it wasn't necessary.

"I felt somewhat responsible," replied Tom, and words failed him.
"Here's Austen Vane," he added, indicating by a nod of the head the
obvious presence of that gentleman. "You'll excuse me. There's a man
here I want to see."

"What's the matter with Mr. Gaylord?" Victoria asked. "He seems
so--queer."

They were standing apart, alone, Hastings Weare having gone to the
stables for the runabout.

"Mr. Gaylord imagines he doesn't get along with the opposite sex,"
Austen replied, with just a shade of constraint.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Victoria; "we got along perfectly the other day
when he rescued me from the bushes. What's the matter with him?"

Austen laughed, and their eyes met.

"I think he is rather surprised to see you here," he said.

"And you?" returned Victoria. "Aren't you equally out of place?"

He did not care to go into an explanation of Tom's suspicion in regard
to Mr. Crewe.

"My curiosity was too much for me," he replied, smiling.

"So was mine," she replied, and suddenly demanded: "What did you think
of Humphrey's speech?"

Their eyes met. And despite the attempted seriousness of her tone they
joined in an irresistible and spontaneous laughter. They were again on
that plane of mutual understanding and intimacy for which neither could
account.

"I have no criticism to make of Mr. Crewe as an orator, at least," he
said.

Then she grew serious again, and regarded him steadfastly.

"And--what he said?" she asked.

Austen wondered again at the courage she had displayed. All he had been
able to think of in the theatre, while listening to Mr. Crewe's words of
denunciation of the Northeastern Railroads, had been of the effect they
might have on Victoria's feelings, and from time to time he had glanced
anxiously at her profile. And now, looking into her face, questioning,
trustful--he could not even attempt to evade. He was silent.

"I shoul