ready to start and keeping the machine in sight, but it seemed wiser to
be on the field where he could make sure the Frenchman would not forget
his bargain nor start before Pauline arrived.

Pauline was ready with such record-breaking suddenness that it gave her
the novel experience of waiting for Harry.

She bad not forgotten that her lover had asked her not to bother him
while he worked on the car. After that slight to her pride the young
lady would rather die than go near the garage while he was in it.
During the next five minutes unpleasant doubts entered her mind. What
could this indifference and neglect mean? She had looked upon Harry
ever since his return from college as a personal possession. Of
course, technically he wasn't hers until she married him. But if he
were not her property, at least she had an option on the handsome youth
until such time as she saw fit to either take his name or relinquish
him to some one else. In that case she wondered to whom she would like
to turn him over. There was her schoolmate and chum, Miss Hamlin. How
lucky any man would be to get her, and Harry--how would he feel about
it? Then, like a cold draught in her brain came the recollection that
Lucille and Harry had corresponded all the four years he was at
college.

Could it be that she, Pauline, had been too willful and headstrong with
Harry? If so, was it possible that the keen edge of his adoration was
wearing dull? Pauline had just succeeded in stamping these unpleasant
questions deep down into the subconscious parts of her mind when the
young man whisked up in the runabout.

Pauline's wrath melted rapidly. Harry drove, as he did everything out
in the open air, magnificently. His judgment of distances and openings
was precise, and his skill in weaving his way through heavy traffic was
startling. A good looking young man is seldom seen to better
advantage, especially by a girl, than when driving a powerful car.
Pauline loved to drive with Harry. Besides his spectacular tricks he
had a guileless manner of getting the better of arguments with crossing
policemen.

Harry was not driving as fast as usual. This fact was impressed on her
by shouts and waving of hands from a car which passed them from
behind.

"That's Lucille," cried Pauline, waving.

"Yes, and, confound it, that's Billy Madison taking her to the races."

"Well, why shouldn't he?" asked Pauline. "Isn't it all right?"

"Yes but it seems to