had been the dearest. . . . And Hildegarde was like her. . . . He wasn't good enough for either of them. . . . The Carew blood . . . galloping . . . rackety . . . wild for adventure!
He was waked from his meditation by the sound -of hoof-beats. Hildegarde and Winslow were coming up the drive. Carew called, and they turned towards him. As Hildegarde reached him, she spoke with an effect of breathlessness, "Neale has something to say to you, Daddy. That's why we're back so soon." She jumped from her horse and stood beside him.
Winslow also dismounted. "There's no reason to get excited, Hildegarde. That's the trouble with women. They go off half-cocked."
Carew did not like his tone. But then Neale was Neale. And not a gentleman.
He tried to take the situation lightly. "Have you two been quarrelling?"
"No," Winslow wasted no time. "Sally's married. Ran away with Merry. This afternoon. I want Hildegarde to marry me in Sally's place."
Carew gave a short laugh. "Are you out of your mind, Neale?"
"No. But I've been put in an intolerable position. Everybody will be laughing at me. Saying I'm jilted. If I marry Hildegarde the world can't laugh. It can guess at things, but it won't know."
"You'll have to face it. When you come to your senses, you'll realize the utter absurdity of trying to substitute Hildegarde. Things like that simply aren't done, my dear fellow."
His arm went round his daughter. "Daddy, dar-
