rself," Gerard observed.

"Do you think I should be afraid?"

"I think you might have serious trouble. There is a deep ditch on either
side, while the road is both narrow and slippery."

"I can drive anywhere. Ask Corrie."

"I suspect he is a biassed judge. But I should not have believed he
would let you drive here."

"He----I never did except in dry weather. I knew _you_ would not mind
any road and could drive in anything, so it did not matter."

"Please consider the compliment more than appreciated, mademoiselle,"
Gerard smiled. "There is going to be a splash when we strike that
puddle ahead; had you not better draw in your frock?"

She caught her white serge skirts around her and shrank nearer to her
companion with a gurgle of dismayed laughter.

"Let me get in the middle. Uh, what a muddy swamp! Oh--my face!"

In fact, the water had splashed as the car struck the pool where a
rain-swollen brook had overflowed the road. As Gerard turned to the
girl, she lifted a face sprinkled with drops which she strove to remove
with her handkerchief.

"Is it off?" she questioned. "Please look carefully. _All_ off?"

He was obliged to scrutinize the handsome countenance offered for
inspection at close range.

"A trifle of mud, still," he admitted.

"Where? Here?"

"No--more to the left. Beneath the eye--the other eye."

"This place?"

"Not quite."

It was incredible, the length of time that small spot evaded Isabel's
questing handkerchief, and the futility of Gerard's directions. He was
obliged to halt the car, at last.

"A little higher--not so much. There! No, not so low."

With a gesture of mock despair, she gave him the fragrant square of
linen.

"Wipe it off," she requested resignedly. "I can't motor all over Long
Island with a dirty face. There is no one in sight for miles; wipe it
off and never tell."

"I am very clumsy," he demurred.

"Well, it can't be helped."

Gerard might have echoed the exclamation. But he accepted the
handkerchief and deftly, if with inward embarrassment, removed the stain
from the ruddy cheek presented.

"It can't be off, Mr. Gerard?"

"Pardon, it is gone."

"You hardly touched it," doubtingly.

"If you could see----" he began in defense of his work.

"Look once more."

He obeyed, impersonally and coolly.

"Nothing, indeed," he asserted.

She glanced up at him through her long lashes, and flung herself back in
her seat.

"Thank you. Shall we go on?"

[Il