In Her Own Right Part 39

"Oh, go to thunder!"

"Because, if you do, you might mention it to her--there, she goes, now!"

"Where?" said Macloud, whirling around toward the window.

Croyden made no reply. It was not necessary. On the opposite side of the street, Miss Carrington--in a tailored gown of blue broadcloth, close fitting and short in the skirt, with a velvet toque to match--was swinging briskly back from town.

Macloud watched her a moment in silence.

"The old man is done for, at last!" Croyden thought.

"Isn't she a corker!" Macloud broke out. "Look at the poise of the head, and ease of carriage, and the way she puts down her feet!--that's the way to tell a woman. G.o.d! Croyden, she's thoroughbred!"

"You better go over," said his friend. "It's about the tea hour, she'll brew you a cup."

"And I'll drink it--as much as she will give me. I despise the stuff, but I'll drink it!"

"She'll put rum in it, if you prefer!" laughed Croyden; "or make you a high ball, or you can have it straight--just as you want."

"Come along!" exclaimed Macloud. "We're wasting time."

"I'll be over, presently," Croyden replied. "_I_ don't want any tea, you know."

"Good!" Macloud answered, from the hallway. "Come along, as soon as you wish--but don't come _too soon_."

XV

AN OLD RUSE

Macloud found Miss Carrington plucking a few belated roses, which, somehow, had escaped the frost.

She looked up at his approach, and smiled--the bewilderingly bewitching smile which lighted her whole countenance and seemed to say so much.

"Back again! to Clarendon and its master?" was her greeting.

"And, if I may, to you," he replied.

"Very good! After them, you belong to _me_," she laughed.

"Why after?" he inquired.

"I don't know--it was the order of speech, and the order of acquaintance," with a naive look.

"But not the order of--regard."

"Content!" she exclaimed. "You did it very well for a--novice."

He tapped the gray hair upon his temples.

"A novice?" he inflected.

"You decline to accept it?--Very well, sir, very well!"

"I can't accept, and be honest," he replied.

"And you must be honest! Oh, brave man! Oh, n.o.ble gentleman! Perchance, you will accept a reward: a cup of tea--or a high ball!"

"Perchance, I will--the high ball!"

"I thought so! come along."

"You were not going out?"

She looked at him, with a sly smile.

"You know that I have just returned," she said. "I saw you in the window at Clarendon."

"I was there," he admitted.

"And you came over at once--prepared to be surprised that I was here."

"And found you waiting for me--just as I expected."

"Oh!" she cried. "You're horrid! perfectly horrid!"

"_Peccavi! Peccavi!_" he said humbly.

"_Te absolvo!_" she replied, solemnly. "Now, let us make a fresh start--by going for a walk. You can postpone the high ball until we return."

"I can postpone the high ball for ever," he averred.

"Meaning, you could walk forever, or you're not thirsty?" she laughed.

"Meaning, I could walk forever _with you_--on, and on, and on----"

"Until you walked into the Bay--I understand. I'll take the will for the deed--the water's rather chilly at this season of the year."

Macloud held up his hand, in mock despair.

"Let us make a third start--drop the attempt to be clever and talk sense. I think I can do it, if I try."

"Willingly!" she responded.

As they came out on the side walk, Croyden was going down the street.