much. She had found Benis, as she expected,
on the front steps. They had talked for quite ten minutes without an
interruption--but also without any reason to deplore one.

This was failure. And Mary, whose love of the chase grew as the quarry
proved shy, was beginning to be seriously annoyed with Benis. He might
at least play up! Even now he was not looking at her, and he did not
ask her what it was that she simply did not understand. Mary decided
that he deserved something--a pin-prick at least.

"Why don't you get a car, Benis?" she asked inconsequently. "If you had
one, Desire might ride in it some-times, instead of always in Dr.
Rogers'. Can't you see that it's dangerous?"

"One has to take risks," said Spence plaintively. "John is careless.
But he has never killed anyone yet."

"You're impossible, Benis."

"Yes, I know. But particularly impossible as a chauffeur. That's why I
haven't a car. What would I do with a driver when I wasn't using him?
Desire will have a car of her own as soon as she likes to try it. Aunt
won't drive and I--don't."

This was the first approach to a personal remark the professor had
made. No one was in sight yet and Mary began to hope again. Once more
she tried the gently serious gaze.

"Why not?" she asked, not too eagerly.

Yorick, sunning himself by the door, gave vent to a goblin chuckle.
"Oh, what a pal was M-Mary! Oh, what a pal--Nothing doing!" he finished
with a shriek and began to flap his wings.

The professor laughed. "Yorick gets his lessons mixed," he said. "But
isn't he a wonder? Did you ever know a bird who could learn so quickly?"

Mary did not want to talk about birds. "Do tell me why you dislike
driving?" she asked with gentle insistence.

"Oh, I like it.-It's not that. I used to drive like Jehu, or John.
Never had an accident. But when I came back from overseas I found I
couldn't trust my nerve--no quick judgment, no instinctive
reaction--all gone to pieces. Rather rotten."

With unerring intuition Mary knew this for a real confidence.
Fortunately she was an expert with shy game.

"Quite rotten," she said soberly. He went on.

"It's little things like that that hit hard. Not to be One's own man in
a crisis--d'y' see?"

Mary nodded.

"But it's only temporary," he continued more cheer-fully. "I'll try
myself out one of these days. Only, of course, arranged tests are never
real ones. The crisis must leap on one to be of any use. Some little
time ago, wh