d Miss Stuyvesant among the nymphs!"
cried he, in those ringing pleasant tones that at once predispose you
towards their possessor.

"If you allude to my friend Miss Fairchild, you certainly do, Mr.
Ensign," the wicked little lady rejoined with a waiving of her usual
ceremony that astonished Paula.

Mr. Ensign bestowed upon them his most courtly bow, but the flush that
mounted to his brow--making his face one red, as certain of his friends
were malicious enough to observe on similar occasions--indicated that he
had been taken a little more at his word than perhaps suited even one of
his easy and proverbially careless temperament. "Miss Fairchild will
understand that I am not a Harvey Williams--at least before an
introduction," said he with something like seriousness.

But at this allusion to the gentleman whose name had been upon their
lips but a moment before, both ladies laughed outright.

"I have just been accused of attempting the role of that gentleman
myself," exclaimed Paula. "If the fresh morning air will persist in
painting such roses on ladies' cheeks," continued she, with a loving
look at her pretty companion "what can one be expected to do?"

"Admire," quoth the red bannered cavalier with a glance, however, at the
beautiful speaker instead of the demure little Cicely at her side.

Miss Stuyvesant perceived this look and a curious smile disturbed the
corners of her rosy lips. "What a fortunate man to be able to do the
right thing at the right time," laughed she, gaily touching up her horse
that was beginning to show symptoms of restlessness.

"If Miss Stuyvesant will put that in the future tense and then assure us
she has been among the prophets, I should be singularly obliged," said
he with a touch of his hat and a smiling look at Paula that was at once
manly and gentle, careless and yet respectful.

"Ah, life is too bright for prophesies this morning. The moment is
enough."

"Is it Miss Fairchild?" queried Mr. Ensign looking back over his
shoulder.

She turned just a bit of her cheek towards him. "What Miss Stuyvesant
declares to be true, that am I bound to believe," said she, and with the
least little ripple of a laugh, rode on.

"It is a pity you have such a dislike for whiskers," Cicely presently
remarked with an air of great gravity.

Paula gave a start and cast a glance of reproach at her companion. "I
did not notice his whiskers after the first word or two," said she,
fixing her eyes on