or parks, since they raised the price of
adjoining property and made renting easier.

"And what's the price of all this grandeur?"

"Only three hundred a month," said Mr. Hailstorks.

"Only!" gasped Marie Louise.

"It will be four hundred in a week or two--yes ma'am," said Mr.
Hailstorks.

So Marie Louise seized it before its price rose any farther.

She took a last look at Rock Creek Park, henceforth her private
game-preserve. As she stared, an idea came to her. She needed one. The
park, it occurred to her, was an excellent wilderness to get lost
in--with Ross Davidge.

* * * * *

She was late to her meeting with Davidge--not unintentionally. He was
waiting on the steps of the hotel, smoking, when she drove up in the
car she had bought for her Motor Corps work.

He said what she hoped he would say:

"I didn't know you drove so well."

She quoted a popular phrase: "'You don't know the half of it, dearie.'
Hop in, and I'll show you."

He thought of Lady Clifton-Wyatt, and Marie Louise knew he thought of
her. But he was not hero or coward enough to tell a woman that he had
an engagement with another woman. She pretended to have forgotten that
he had told her, though she could think of little else. She whisked
round the corner of I Street, or Eye Street, and thence up Sixteenth
Street, fast and far.

She was amazed at her own audacity, and Davidge could not make her
out. She had a scared look that puzzled him. She was really thinking
that she was the most unconscionable kidnapper that ever ran off with
some other body's child. He could hardly dun her for the money, and
she had apparently forgotten it again.

They were well to the north when she said:

"Do you know Rock Creek Park?"

"No, I've never been in it."

"Would you like a glimpse? I think it's the prettiest park in the
world."

She looked at her watch with that twist of the wrist now becoming
almost universal and gasped:

"Oh, dear! I must turn back. But it's just about as short to go
through the park. I mustn't make you late to Lady Clifton-Wyatt's
tea."

He could find absolutely nothing to say to that except, "It's mighty
pretty along here." She turned into Blagdon Road and coasted down the
long, many-turning dark glade. At the end she failed to steer to the
south. The creek itself crossed the road. She drove the car straight
through its lilting waters. There was exhilaration in the splashing