live's condition now. Once she
dismounted, sat down on a piece of rock, and cried. The rest was of
service to her, but she could not stay there long; the road was too
lonely. She must push on. So on she pressed, sometimes walking, and
sometimes on her wheel, the pedals apparently growing stiffer at every
turn. Slight mishaps she did not mind, but a fear began to grow upon her
that she would never be able to reach Broadstone at all. But after a
time--a very long time it seemed--the road grew more level and smooth;
and then ahead she saw the white surface of the turnpike shining as it
passed the end of her road. When she should emerge on that smooth, hard
road it could not be long, even if she went slowly, before she reached
home. She was still some fifty yards from the pike when she saw a man
upon it, walking southward.

As Dick Lancaster passed the end of the road he lifted his head, and
looked along it. It was strange that he should do so, for since he had
started on his homeward walk he had not raised his eyes from the ground.
He had reached Broadstone soon after luncheon, before Olive had left on
her wheel, and had passed rather a stupid time, playing tennis with
Claude Locker, he had seen but little of Mrs. Easterfield, whose mind
was evidently occupied. Once she had seemed about to take him into her
confidence, but had suddenly excused herself, and had gone into the
house. When the game was finished Locker advised him to go home.

"She is not likely to be down until dinner time," he had said, "and this
evening I'll defend our cause against those other fellows. I have
several good things in my mind that I am sure will interest her, and I
don't believe there's any use courting a girl unless you interest her."

Lancaster had taken the advice, and had left much earlier than was
usual.

_CHAPTER XVI_

_Mr. Lancaster accepts a Mission._

When Dick Lancaster saw Olive he stopped with a start, and then ran
toward her.

"Miss Asher!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here? What is the
matter? You look pale."

When she saw him coming Olive had dismounted, not with the active spring
usual with her, but heavily and clumsily. She did not even smile as she
spoke to him.

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Lancaster," she said. "I am on my way back to
Broadstone, and I would like to send a message to my uncle by you."

"Back from where? And why on this road?" he was about to ask, but he
checked himself. He saw that s