oad from here to Oak Cliff," said Miss Harding
when we had gone a mile or so. "You may rest, Jacques Henri, and I'll
take your place."

She did so, and handled the big car with the skill of an expert. I did
not talk to her for fear of distracting her attention from the task she
had assumed. I was contented to watch her, to be near her and to know
that I had had the rare good fortune to do an unexpected turn for one
who was near and dear to her.

I will tell of our day in Oak Cliff in my next entry.

ENTRY NO. XVI

MISS HARDING OWNS UP

"I Demand part of my payment this afternoon," I said to Miss Harding as
we neared the Oak Cliff club house.

"You are impatient, Jacques Henri," she laughed. "Is it possible my
credit is not good?"

"Not in this instance," I returned. "I am demanding that you refuse all
invitations to play in foursomes, and that after luncheon you and I make
the round of Oak Cliff."

"That is so modest a request that I grant it," she said, and ten minutes
later I had the satisfaction of hearing her decline Carter's invitation
to join in a foursome in which I was to take no part. This proves not
only that all is fair in love, but that victory favours the one who
strikes the first blow.

It was about ten o'clock when we reached Oak Cliff, and found Mr. Wilson
waiting for us. Harding was impatient to test his skill against Wilson,
and the two were ready to play when the rest of us were still chatting
with Mrs. Wilson and others of their party.

"We are entitled to a gallery," declared Harding. "Come on, everybody,
and watch me show Wilson how this game should be played."

Most of us accepted this invitation. Mr. Wilson fits the description
Harding had given of him. He is wonderfully tall and slim, and I doubted
if he had much skill as a golfer. His smooth-shaven features and dreamy
eyes were those of the poet, but he is one of the best bankers and
business men in the country.

Harding drove a fairly straight ball but Wilson promptly sliced into the
tall grass. Miss Harding and I helped him search for his ball, and
Chilvers joined in the hunt.

"Ah, this is very lucky!" exclaimed Mr. Wilson, bending his long frame
over some object.

"Found your ball?" asked Chilvers.

"The ball? No, no," he said, coming to his feet with something in his
hand which looked to me like a weed. "But I've found a rare specimen of
the _Articum Lappa_. It is a beauty!"

"Looks sort of familiar," said the