ton, therefore, had her back in view--at rather a
vexing distance, too--for mile after mile of the ride to the city. Not
so far ahead, however, that he could not observe every movement of her
light, graceful figure as she swept down the King's Highway. She was a
perfect horsewoman, firm, jaunty, free. Somehow he knew, without seeing,
that a stray brown wisp of hair caressed her face with insistent
adoration: he could see her hand go up from time to time to brush it
back--just as if it were not a happy place for a wisp of hair.
Perhaps--he shivered with the thought of it--perhaps it even caressed
her lips. Ah, who would not be a wisp of brown hair!

He galloped along beside the Baron, a prey to gloomy considerations.
What was the use? He had no chance to win her. That was for story-books
and plays. She belonged to another world--far above his. And even beyond
that, she was not likely to be attracted by such a rude, ungainly,
sunburned lout as he, with such chaps about as Vos Engo, or that
what's-his-name fellow, or a dozen others whom he had seen. Confound it
all, she was meant for a prince, or an archduke. What chance had he?

But she was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. Yes; she was the
golden girl of his dreams. Within his grasp, so to speak, and yet he
could not hope to seize her, after all. Was she meant for that popinjay
youth with the petulant eye and the sullen jaw? Was he to be the lucky
man, this Vos Engo?

The Baron's dry, insinuating voice broke in upon the young man's
thoughts. "I think it's pretty well understood that she's going to
marry him." The little old minister had been reading King's thoughts; he
had the satisfaction of seeing his victim start guiltily. It was on the
tip of Truxton's tongue to blurt out: "How the devil did you know what I
was thinking about?" But he managed to control himself, asking instead,
with bland interest:

"Indeed? Is it a good match, Baron?"

The Baron smiled. "I think so. He has been a trifle wild, but I believe
he has settled down. Splendid family. He is desperately in love, as you
may have noted."

"I hadn't thought much about it. Is she in love with him?"

"She sees a great deal of him," was the diplomatic answer.

Truxton considered well for a minute or two, and then bluntly asked:

"Would you mind telling me just who she is, Baron? What is her name?"

Dangloss was truly startled. He gave the young man a quick, penetrating
glance; then a set, hard ex