"Oh, well," he answered awkwardly, "although Lance obviously knows your

father pretty well, it doesn't follow that he's a friend of yours."

"It does not," she said in a curious tone. "But do you know the man he

was with?"

"I never saw him before, and somehow I don't feel anxious to improve his

acquaintance."

Clare laughed.

"That's a quick decision, isn't it? Are you a judge of character?" she

asked.

"I have been badly mistaken," Dick admitted with a smile. "Still, I know

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the people I'm going to like. How is it I haven't seen you about? We're

not very far off and most of the people in the neighborhood have driven

over to our camp."

"I only came home to-night, after being away for some time."

Dick was relieved to learn this. He did not like to think of her living

at Kenwardine's house and meeting his friends. It was scarcely half an

hour since he met Clare Kenwardine, but she had, quite unconsciously he

thought, strongly impressed him. In fact, he felt rather guilty about it.

Since he was, in a manner, expected to marry some one else, he had no

business to enjoy yielding to this stranger's charm and to thrill at her

touch.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Lance strolled up with

his companion.

"Don't forget the time, Dick," he remarked as he passed. "You mustn't let

him keep you too long, Miss Kenwardine. He has an important errand to do

for his colonel."

"If you don't mind, I won't go just yet," Dick said to Clare; and

understood from her silence that she did not want to dismiss him.

For the first time since they were boys, he was angry with his cousin. It

looked as if Lance had meant to take him away when Miss Kenwardine needed

him. He was flattered to think she preferred his society to the red-faced

man's, and had used him to keep the other at a distance. Well, he would

stay to the last minute and protect her from the fellow, or from anybody

else.

A little later Kenwardine joined them, and Dick knew that he must go.

Clare gave him her hand with a quick, grateful look that made his heart

beat, and Lance met him as he went into the house.

"You're cutting it very fine," he said. "Come along; here's your cap."

"In a moment! There's an infantry man I asked over to our camp."

"You haven't time to look for him," Lance answered, and good-humoredly

pushed Dick into the hall. "Get off at once! A fellow I know will give me

a lift home."

Dick ran down the drive and a few moments later his motorcycle was

humming up the road. He sped through a dark firwood, where the cool air

was filled with resinous scent, and out across a hillside down which the

stocked sheaves stood in silvery rows, but he noticed nothing except that

the white strip of road was clear in front. His thoughts were back in the

garden with Clare Kenwardine, and he could smell the clogging sweetness

of the stocks. This was folly, and he changed the gear on moderate hills

and altered the control when the engine did not need it, to occupy his

mind; but the picture of the girl he carried away with him would not be

banished.




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