. Canning yesterday!_... Where?"

"Why, out on the old Plattsburg Turnpike," said Hen, certain now that
the affair was not on again--"near the Three Winds Road. We happened to
be taking a walk out there, and he dashed by on that beautiful big bay
mare of Mr. Payne's, going like a runaway. He didn't look happy a
bit ... You knew he was here, I suppose?"

By a very special effort, Carlisle had recaptured her poise: it was not
her habit to confide her troubles to anybody, least of all to a Cooney.

"Oh, no!" she answered in a voice of careless frankness. "I don't know
the first thing about his movements any more."

"Well, it seems he only came for over Sunday. A friend of Mr. Payne's
told Chas he was here, on Saturday. He went off again on the noon
train to-day."

"Oh!... Did he?"

"Looloo saw him at the station. She happened to be there, meeting a
friend of hers."

Gone!--He had come, not seen her, and gone!... A wave of bitterness
swept through Cally, impelling her to hit out at somebody.

"Of course. Isn't it _funny_ how your family always sees and hears
everything?"

But Hen answered, entirely unmoved, in fact with an air of modesty: "Any
family can do it who keep their eyes and ears open. For instance, good
old Looloo heard where he checked his baggage to: Palm Beach, if it's of
any interest to you."

"I don't believe it is, my dear. He'll be checking it back this way
again very soon, I've no doubt. Are we going the right way for
Dunbar Street?"

Hen shot at her a look of unconscious admiration. Her pretty cousin's
indifferent air seemed to support the theory that she had actually
rejected the prince of partis, which, in fact, was exactly what it was
meant to do. Hen had never really thought that Cally had it in her. She
threw her alert eye around to see where they were. The car had turned
south at Twelfth Street, had crossed Centre, and was now rolling into a
quarter of the town very different-looking, indeed, from Washington
Street. Hen said they were all right for Dunbar Street and told Cally to
cheer up. Much worse was coming, Hen said.

There was nothing personal in Hen's admonition, but the truth was that
Cally, gazing fixedly at the passing sights, felt anything but cheerful
at this moment. The Cooneys' tidings were staggering in their way.

What was the meaning of Mr. Canning's mysterious flying visit? That it
had to do with her she did not question; and, tensely meditating, she
presently foun