l on his lips, but
his eyes remained closed.

"Go, dear fellow!" he said softly. "And God bless you!"

And Nap turned with a set face and went straight from the room.

CHAPTER XVI

THE STRAIGHT GAME

It was drawing towards evening on that same day when Anne, who had been
spending the afternoon at the Dower House, walked back across the park.
She went by way of the stream along which she and Nap had once skated
hand in hand in the moonlight, and as she went she stooped now and then
to gather the flowers that grew in the grass beside her path. But her
face as she did it was grave and thoughtful. She did not seem to notice
their fragrance.

As she neared the lake she moved more slowly, and reaching a rustic seat
beneath a cedar that shadowed the entrance to the gardens she sat down,
her grey eyes fixed upon the water that gurgled at her feet.

A brilliant green dragon-fly, darting meteor-like across her vision, came
presently to disturb her reverie. With a slight start she awoke, and
leaned forward with an odd eagerness to mark its progress. As it flashed
away through the shadows a quick sigh came to her lips. It was so fair a
thing, so swiftly gone.

She gathered up her flowers and rose. And in that moment she knew that
she was not alone.

How she knew it she could not have said. No sound or shadow told her. No
hand touched her. Yet she knew.

For a few seconds she stood motionless on the edge of the stream. Then
without turning she spoke.

"Were you looking for me?"

"Yes," he said.

He came to her side. They were close--close to that spot where once he
had so arrogantly claimed her friendship. To-day it seemed he had no
word to utter.

For a space she waited, then, finding in his silence something that
disquieted her, she spoke again.

"Is all well? Why are you not with Lucas?"

"All's well," he said, but he left her second question unanswered. He was
gazing down intently into the clear water.

Seconds passed. She glanced at him once or twice, but he seemed unaware
of her scrutiny. He made no movement to meet it. His dark face brooded
over the stream, almost as if she were not there.

Her heart began to throb with thick, uneven strokes. What had he come to
say to her? And why did he stand thus silent? There was something tragic
about him, something almost terrible.

She waited beside him in wordless foreboding. Whatever was coming she
felt powerless to avert. She could only brace hersel