as I rode by Miss Forrest's side.

We had gone perhaps two miles from the house, when we found ourselves
separated from Tom Temple and Miss Gray, and we slackened our horses'
speed to a walk.

"Have you thought my conduct strange since we last rode out together?"
she said.

"I have indeed," I replied bluntly, "especially as I do not remember
having done anything that should merit your evident dislike to me."

"I owe you an apology," she said. "I have been very foolish, very
unjust. I am very sorry."

"But might I ask why you saw fit to change your conduct from
friendliness to extreme aversion?"

"I'm almost ashamed to tell you, Mr. Blake, but I will. If there is one
thing for which I have aversion and contempt, it is for flirting,
coquetry, and the like. If there is any species of mankind that I
despise, it is that of a flirt, a society man, a ladies' man."

"And have I ever given evidence of belonging to that class, Miss
Forrest?"

"No," she replied; "and that is why I am so ashamed of myself. But I
listened to some foolish gossip about your boasting of your conquests
with ladies and the like. I know I ought not to have listened to it, but
I did. I am very sorry; will you forgive me?"

She said this frankly, and without hesitation; yet I thought I saw a
blush mount her cheek as she spoke.

"If there is anything to forgive, I do forgive you," I replied,
"especially as I despise that class of individuals as much as you. The
vapid, dancing society mannikin is everywhere an object of contempt,
while a society girl, as generally accepted, is not a whit more to my
taste."

I saw she was pleased at this, and I felt I loved her more than ever.
Did she, I wondered, care anything for me? Was there any vestige of
interest in her heart beyond that which she felt for any passing
acquaintance?

"Mr. Blake," she said, after pausing a second, "do you remember what we
were talking about that day when we last rode out together?"

"We were talking of Mr. Voltaire," I said. "Have you found out anything
more about him?"

"No, I have not. Is there any mystery connected with him?"

"I think there is. I have an indistinct kind of feeling that both he and
the Egyptian are deceivers, while I am sure that Mr. Voltaire is--is
your enemy."

"I have no doubt he is," I said.

She looked at me strangely.

"I had not been in Temple Hall two hours before that man had marked me
as one that he would fain be rid of."

"Indeed,"