The young girl's manner changed. "HER!" she said, half scornfully, "you
don't suppose I believe THAT story? No. I--I--don't blame me, Dick,--I
have seen HIM."

"Him?"

She pushed him nervously into a seat, and sat down beside him. In the
half light of the moon, despite her pallor and distraction, she was
still very human, womanly, and attractive in her disorder.

"Listen to me, Dick. Do you remember one afternoon, when we were riding
together, I got ahead of you, and dashed off to the casa. I don't know
what possessed me, or WHY I did it. I only know I wanted to get home
quickly, and get away from you. No, I was not angry, Dick, at YOU;
it did not seem to be THAT; I--well, I confess I was FRIGHTENED--at
something, I don't know what. When I wheeled round into the lane, I
saw--a man--a young gentleman standing by the garden-wall. He was very
picturesque-looking, in his red sash, velvet jacket, and round silver
buttons; handsome, but oh, so pale and sad! He looked at me very
eagerly, and then suddenly drew back, and I heard you on Chu Chu coming
at my heels. You must have seen him and passed him too, I thought: but
when you said nothing of it, I--I don't know why, Dick, I said nothing
of it too. Don't speak!" she added, with a hurried gesture: "I know NOW
why you said nothing,--YOU had not seen him."

She stopped, and put back a wisp of her disordered chestnut hair.

"The next time was the night YOU were so queer, Dick, sitting on that
stone bench. When I left you--I thought you didn't care to have me
stay--I went to seek Aunt Viney at the bottom of the garden. I was very
sad, but suddenly I found myself very gay, talking and laughing with
her in a way I could not account for. All at once, looking up, I saw HIM
standing by the little gate, looking at me very sadly. I think I would
have spoken to Aunt Viney, but he put his finger to his lips--his
hand was so slim and white, quite like a hand in one of those Spanish
pictures--and moved slowly backwards into the lane, as if he wished to
speak with ME only--out there. I know I ought to have spoken to Aunty; I
knew it was wrong what I did, but he looked so earnest, so appealing, so
awfully sad, Dick, that I slipped past Aunty and went out of the gate.
Just then she missed me, and called. He made a kind of despairing
gesture, raising his hand Spanish fashion to his lips, as if to say
good-night. You'll think me bold, Dick, but I was so anxious to know
what it all meant, tha