"We are not. I have never promised to marry you, have I?" She smiled.

"No; I guess not; but that's understood."

"Don't be so sure."

"There are some things definitely fixed without the spoken word."

"Good night, Dorian." She was smiling still.

"Good night, Carlia." Their hands met and clasped, atoning the best they
could for the forbidden kiss.

One evening when the feeling of spring was in the air, Dorian was going
to call on Carlia, when he heard the approach of an automobile. As it
turned into the bystreet, leading to the Duke home, Dorian saw the
driver to be Mr. Jack Lamont. Dorian kept in the road, and set his face
hard. As the machine had to stop to prevent running over him, Dorian
turned, walked deliberately to the side of the car, and looking steadily
into Mr. Lamont's face, said:

"I'm going to Mr. Duke's also. If I find you there, I'll thrash you
within an inch of your life. Drive on."

For a moment, the two glared at each other, then the automobile went
on--on past the Duke house toward town. When Dorian arrived at his
destination, Carlia greeted him with:

"Dorian, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he laughed.

"You're as pale as a ghost."

"Am I? Well, I haven't seen any ghosts--Say, mother wants you to come to
supper. She has something you specially like. Can you?"

"Sure, she can," answered her mother, for she was glad to have Carlia
out away from the work which she was determined to stick to closer than
ever. Carlia was pleased to go, and kept up a merry chatter until she
saw that Dorian was exceptionally sober-minded. She asked him what was
the matter with him, but he evaded. His thoughts were on the man whom
he had prevented from calling at her home that evening. What was his
errand? What was in the scoundrel's mind? Dorian struggled to put away
from him the dark thoughts which had arisen because of his recent
encounter with Mr. Lamont. All the evening at home and during their walk
back he was unusually silent, and Carlia could only look at him with
questioning anxiety.

Spring, once started, came on with a rush. The melting snow filled the
river with a muddy flood; the grass greened the slopes; the bursting
willows perfumed the air; the swamp awakened to the warm touch of the
sun. Dorian's busy season also began.

As soon as the roads were passible, Dorian drove up to his dry-farm. On
one of these first trips he fell in with a company of his neighboring
dry-farmers, and they tr