see
if I can borrow an extra suit-case or two for my purchases."

When she came down, Allan was waiting for her in the buggy. A bell-boy,
in her wake, brought three suit-cases and piled them under the seat.
Half a dozen rocking-chairs, on the veranda, held highly interested
observers. The paraphernalia suggested an elopement.

"Tell those women on the veranda," said Eloise, to the boy, "that I'm
not taking any trunks and will soon be back."

"What for?" queried Allan, as they drove away.

"Reasons of my own," she answered, crisply. "Men are as blind as bats."

"I'm wearing glasses," he returned, with due humility. "If you think I'm
fit to hear why you left that cryptic message, I'd be pleased to."

"You're far from fit. Here, turn into this road."

Spread like a tawny ribbon upon the green of the hills, the road wound
lazily through open sunny spaces and shaded aisles sweet with that cool
fragrance found only in the woods. The horse did not hurry, but wandered
comfortably from side to side of the road, browsing where he chose. He
seemed to know that lovers were driving him.

[Sidenote: Horses versus Autos]

"He's a one-armed horse, isn't he?" laughed Eloise. "I like him lots
better than an automobile, don't you?"

"Out here, I do. But an automobile has certain advantages."

"What are they?" she demanded. "I'd rather feed a horse than to buy a
tire, any day."

"So would I--unless he tired of his feed. But if you want to get
anywhere very quickly and the thing happens not to break, the machine is
better."

"But it never happens. I believe the average automobile is possessed of
an intuition little short of devilish. A horse seems more friendly. If
you were thinking of getting me a little electric runabout for my
birthday, please change it to a horse."

"All right," returned Allan, serenely. "We can keep him in the
living-room of our six-room apartment and have his dinner sent in from
the nearest _table d'oat_. For breakfast, he can come out into the
_salle a manger_ and eat cereals with us."

"You're absolutely incorrigible," she sighed. "This is the river road.
Follow it until I tell you where to turn."

Within half an hour, the horse came to a full stop of his own accord in
front of the grey, weather-worn house where Barbara lived. He was
cropping at a particularly enticing clump of grass when Eloise
alighted.

"Going to push?" queried Allan, lazily.

"No, this is the place. Come on. You bring two