m
branches of willows at last she made out the flutter of a skirt. She
sighed relief to think Mrs. Herrick still at her post, and began to
hurry down the broad unshaded drive. Her steps sounded loud on the
gravel, and presently to her excited ears they sounded double. Then she
realized the truth. Some one else was walking behind her. She thought by
not looking over her shoulder she could avoid stopping; but in a moment
Harry's voice hailed her. It was still far enough behind for her to hope
she could ignore it. She swept on as if she had not heard. Once around
the turn of the drive, she would be in sight of succor. She could trust
to Mrs. Herrick to manage Harry. She made a little rush around the loop
and looked down the long vista of the willows.

A hundred yards distant she saw the two standing. Kerr presented his
back, and with his head a little canted forward seemed to listen,
absorbed in his companion. But that companion was a smaller figure than
Mrs. Herrick, and her veil made an aura of filmy white around her face.
The sight of her was enough to stop Flora short, and in that instant
Harry, making a cut across the flower-beds, caught up with her. He
stopped as abruptly as she, and gazed with a dismay that surpassed her
own. For an instant she thought he was about to make a dash down the
walk for them. Then he caught Flora's hand and pulled her back. There
was no help for it, she thought. Her other hand crept downward
stealthily and gathered up her swinging pouch of gold. Trembling, she
let him drag her back, but when they faced each other behind the plumes
and swords of a great pampas clump she was shocked at the emotion in his
face; and as if what he had just seen had given the last touch, his
voice had risen a key, and between every half-dozen words it broke for
breath.

"Look here, Flora," he began; "I know you've been trying to give me the
slip ever since night before last. I frightened you then. I didn't mean
to, but you had no business to keep the ring after what I told you. No,
I'm not going to touch you," as she shrank back against the pampas
swords, "but I want you to give it to me, yourself, right here and now."

She looked up into his face, burning fiery in the sun beating down on
his bare head. "No, no, Harry; I shan't give it to you. Last time I said
I would give it to you for a good reason, but now I wouldn't give it to
you for anything."

"You don't know what you're doing," he cried.

"I do; I