one greet a blond god in gray
tweed on a country road, when one has him!

The blond god solved the problem for me.

"Hi!" he called. I did not turn. There was a moment's silence. Then
there came a shrill, insistent whistle, of the kind that is made by
placing four fingers between the teeth. It is a favorite with the
gallery gods. I would not have believed that gray tweed gods stooped to
it.

"Hi!" called the voice again, very near now. "Lieber Gott! Never have I
seen so proud a young woman!"

I whirled about to face Von Gerhard; a strangely boyish and
unprofessional looking Von Gerhard.

"Young man," I said severely, "have you been a-follerin' of me?"

"For miles," groaned he, as we shook hands. "You walk like a grenadier.
I am sent by the charming Norah to tell you that you are to come home
to mix the salad dressing, for there is company for supper. I am the
company."

I was still a bit dazed. "But how did you know which road to take? And
when--"

"Wunderbar, nicht wahr?" laughed Von Gerhard. "But really quite simple.
I come in on an earlier train than I had expected, chat a moment with
sister Norah, inquire after the health of my patient, and am told that
she is running away from a horde of blue devils!--quote your charming
sister--that have swarmed about her all day. What direction did her
flight take? I ask. Sister Norah shrugs her shoulders and presumes that
it is the road which shows the reddest and yellowest autumn colors. That
road will be your road. So!"

"Pooh! How simple! That is the second disappointment you have given me
to-day."

"But how is that possible? The first has not had time to happen."

"The first was yourself," I replied, rudely.

"I had been longing for an adventure. And when I saw you 'way up the
road, such an unusual figure for our Michigan country roads, I forgot
that I was a disappointed old grass widder with a history, and I grew
young again, and my heart jumped up into my throat, and I sez to mesilf,
sez I: 'Enter the hero!' And it was only you."

Von Gerhard stared a moment, a curious look on his face. Then he
laughed one of those rare laughs of his, and I joined him because I was
strangely young, light, and happy to be alive.

"You walk and enjoy walking, yes?" asked Von Gerhard, scanning my face.
"Your cheeks they are like--well, as unlike the cheeks of the German
girls as Diana's are unlike a dairy maid's. And the nerfs? They no
longer jump, eh?"

"Oh, they jump,