in innocent badinage. She was fair-haired and
delicately pretty, and was said to be aware of it; but now of all times I
did not want those playful smiles directed toward me. However, I hoped
that Grace did not see them; and not knowing what else to do, for I could
not frown at her, I sought refuge in what proved to be a bewildering
chapter of genealogy, until the building trembled as the vast assembly
joined in the closing hymn. Long afterward, out on the lone prairie when
the stars shone down through the bitter frost, I could hear in fancy
Grace's voice rising beside me through the great waves of sound. Then I
would remember the song of the speckled thrush singing at sunset after a
showery April day through the shadow of a copse.

We reached the street safely, though in that press there was no hope of
finding Colonel Carrington, even if I wished it, which I certainly did
not, so after some demur and the discussing of other expedients, Grace
accepted my offer to drive her home. "I am afraid it can't be helped," she
said, I thought with quite unnecessary cruelty.

The dog-cart was ready, and Robert the Devil went well. The long streets
rolled behind us, and were lost in the rain; then with a rhythmic drumming
of hoofs and a constant splashing from under the whirring wheels, we swept
out into the blackness of a treeless plain. I knew the road and did not
take the shortest one; and it was rapture to draw the rugs and apron round
Grace's waist, and feel the soft furs she wore brushing against me. The
ten miles passed in what seemed to be scarcely as many minutes, and the
rush through the damp air--for the rain had ceased at last--raised my
companion's spirits, and she chatted merrily; then, just as we reached
the crest of a steep dip into the Starcross valley, the Devil must take
fright at a colored railway light that he had often seen before.

I knew we were in for a struggle, and got both hands on the reins; but two
men would hardly have held him. The next moment, with a mad rattle of
wheels and red sparks flashing under the battering hoofs, we went flying
into the long dark hollow, while I think I prayed that the Devil might
keep his footing on the loose stones of a very bad road. One lurch flung
Grace against the guard-rail, the next against my shoulder, and I remember
feeling when the little hand fastened on my arm, that I would gladly have
done battle with ten wild horses were she also not in jeopardy. Fresh
drizzle