nd then, too, the
time and place were in her favor.

The winter's day was in its last twilight, the moon was already filling
the wayside with light that made shadows on the snow, and through the
long avenue of trees that stretched before us no one was in sight, we
two were alone. As I felt the caressing touch and looked into the fair
face lifted to mine, I forgot all else in the intoxication of the
moment, and responding impulsively leaned down to meet her glance and
would have been guilty of what foolishness I know not, had her woman's
mood not changed in time to save me.

With a laugh she rapped me over the fingers with her whip and, spurring
her horse, was gone from my reach in a moment. No man altogether likes
the sensation of having been played with, and as I galloped after her I
made up my mind not to let myself be again distracted by her wiles, but
when I should have overtaken her to make the most of my opportunity to
learn anything more she might know about the death of White.

When she had tired of the fun of leading me a long and not very
dignified chase, she pulled up and waited for me to rejoin her,
remarking casually as I did so that I seemed to have a "good steady
horse."

"Yes," I replied, rather sharply I fear, for I was out of breath and
humor, "and a fast one when I think it worth while to call on him." She
looked him over carelessly as she replied: "I thought he was doing his
best just now; he seems a little blown, does he not?"

I deigned no reply to this and there were prospects of our ride being
finished in silence, for if I intended to sulk she evidently meant to
let me. Such a course, however, was not calculated to accomplish my
purpose and as we were nearing the city again, I determined to
introduce the subject I had in mind.

"It is strange," I said, "is it not, that you and I should both be
connected so closely with the circumstances of Arthur White's death?"

She looked up surprised and evidently none too well pleased with the
unexpected change in my tone.

"I don't know why you should say that," she answered, "I had nothing to
do with Mr. White's death."

"No, nor had I directly," I replied; "but I was at his house the night
of his death and he was at yours."

"You may have been at his house," she answered, "but I do not know that
he was at mine."

"But he left his ulster there," I insisted.

"His ulster was left there," she said, changing my phraseology; then she
stopped and