ind more happiness in renouncing a selfish love than
in love itself," announced Miss Landis with that serious conviction
characteristic of her years.

"Of course," assented Siward with a touch of malice, "if you really do
find more happiness in renouncing love than in love itself, it would be
foolish not to do it--"

"Mr. Siward! You are derisive. Besides, you are not acute. A woman is
always an opportunist. When the event takes place I shall know what to
do."

"You mean when you want to marry the man you mustn't?

"Exactly. I probably shall."

"Marry him?

"Wish to!"

"I see. But you won't, of course."

She drew rein, bringing the horse to a walk at the foot of a long hill.

"We are going much too fast," said Miss Landis, smiling.

"Driving too fast for--"

"No, not driving, going--you and I."

"Oh, you mean--"

"Yes I do. We are on all sorts of terms, already."

"In the country, you know, people--"

"Yes I know all about it, and what old and valued friends one makes at a
week's end. But it has been a matter of half-hours with us, Mr. Siward."

"Let us sit very still and think it over," he suggested. And they both
laughed.

It was perhaps the reaction of her gaiety that recalled to her mind her
telegram. The telegram had been her promised answer after she had had
time to consider a suggestion made to her by a Mr. Howard Quarrier. The
last week at Shotover permitted reflection; and while her telegram was
no complete answer to the suggestion he had made, it contained material
of interest in the eight words: "I will consider your request when you
arrive.

"I wonder if you know Howard Quarrier?" she said.

After a second's hesitation he replied: "Yes--a little. Everybody does."

"You do know him?"

"Only at--the club."

"Oh, the Lenox?"

"The Lenox--and the Patroons."

Preoccupied, driving with careless, almost inattentive perfection, she
thought idly of her twenty-three years, wondering how life could have
passed so quickly leaving her already stranded on the shoals of an
engagement to marry Howard Quarrier. Then her thoughts, errant, wandered
half the world over before they returned to Siward; and when at length
they did, and meaning to be civil, she spoke again of his acquaintance
with Quarrier at the Patroons Club--the club itself being sufficient to
settle Siward's status in every community.

"I'm trying to remember what it is I have heard about you," she
continued amiably; "you are-