last service. Quite likely he would fade away on the morrow like a
mountain shadow before the sun; and the song in her heart to-night was
not love or anything akin to it, but only the joy of living.

Where the road grew difficult as it dipped sharply down into the valley
she suffered him perforce to ride beside her.

"You ride wonderfully," he said.

"The horse is a joy. He's a Pendragon--I know them in the dark. He must
have come from this valley somewhere. We own some of his cousins, I'm
sure."

"You are quite right. He's a Virginia horse. You are incomparable--no
other woman alive could have kept that pace. It's a brave woman who isn't
a slave to her hair-pins--I don't believe you spilled one."

She drew rein at the cross-roads.

"We part here. How shall I return Bucephalus?"

"Let me go to your own gate, please!"

"Not at all!" she said with decision.

"Then Oscar will pick him up. If you don't see him, turn the horse loose.
But my thanks--for oh, so many things!" he pleaded.

"To-morrow--or the day after--or never!"

She laughed and put out her hand; and when he tried to detain her she
spoke to the horse and flashed away toward home. He listened, marking her
flight until the shadows of the valley stole sound and sight from him;
then he turned back into the hills.

Near her father's estate Shirley came upon a man who saluted in the
manner of a soldier.

It was Oscar, who had crossed the bridge and ridden down by the nearer
road.

"It is my captain's horse--yes?" he said, as the slim, graceful animal
whinnied and pawed the ground. "I found a horse at the broken bridge and
took it to your stable--yes?"

A moment later Shirley walked rapidly through the garden to the veranda
of her father's house, where her brother Dick paced back and forth
impatiently.

"Where have you been, Shirley?"

"Walking."

"But you went for a ride--the stable-men told me."

"I believe that is true, Captain."

"And your horse was brought home half an hour ago by a strange fellow who
saluted like a soldier when I spoke to him, but refused to understand my
English."

"Well, they do say English isn't very well taught at West Point,
Captain," she replied, pulling off her gloves. "You oughtn't to blame the
polite stranger for his courtesy."

"I believe you have been up to some mischief, Shirley. If you are seeing
that man Armitage--"

"Captain!"

"Bah! What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to the ball with y