"You are answering me in a circle." Clemency sat upright and looked at
James, and the blue fire in her eyes glowed. "Who was the man?" she
asked peremptorily.

"I can't tell you, dear."

"But you know."

"Yes."

"Why can't you tell me then?"

"Because it is not best."

Clemency shrugged her shoulders. "Why did he hunt me so?"

"I can't tell you, dear."

"But you know."

"I am not sure."

"But you think you know."

"Yes."

"Then tell me."

"I can't, dear."

"When will you tell me?"

"Never!"

Clemency looked at him, and again she blushed. "You will tell me
after--we are--married. You will have to tell me everything then," she
whispered.

James shook his head.

"Won't you then?"

"No, dear, I shall never tell you while I live."

Clemency made a sudden grasp at the reins. "Then I will never marry
you," she said. "I will never marry you, if you keep things from me."

"I will never keep things from you that you ought to know, dear."

"I ought to know this!"

James remained silent. Clemency had brought the horse to a full stop.
"Won't you ever tell me?" she asked.

"No, never! dear."

"Then let me get out. This is Annie Lipton's street. I am going to see
her. I have not seen her for a long time. I will walk home. It is safe
enough now. You can tell me that much?"

"Yes, it is, but Clemency, dear."

"I am not Clemency, dear. I am not going to marry you. You say you wrote
your father and mother last night that we were going to get married.
Well, you can just write again and tell them we are not. No, you need
not try to stop me. I will get out. Good-by! I shall not be home to
luncheon. I shall stay with Annie. I like her very much better than I
like you."

With that Clemency had slipped out of the buggy and hurried up a street
without looking back. James drove on. He felt disturbed, but not
seriously so. It was impossible to take Clemency's anger as a real
thing. It was so whimsical and childish. He had counted upon his long
morning with her, but he went on with a little smile on his face.

He was half inclined to think, so slightly did he estimate Clemency's
anger, that she would not keep her word, and would be home for luncheon.
But when he returned she was not there, and she had not come when the
bell rang.

"Why, where is Clemency?" Gordon said, when they entered the
dining-room.

"She insisted upon stopping to see her friend Miss Lipton," said James.
"She said that she might