tand at the horse block. Jadwin did not respond
until he had passed the reins to the coachman, and taking the stop
watch from the latter's hand, he drew on his cigar, and held the
glowing tip to the dial.

"Eleven minutes and a quarter," he announced, "and we had to wait for
the bridge at that."

He came up the steps, fanning himself with his slouch hat, and dropped
into the chair that Landry had brought for him.

"Upon my word," he exclaimed, gingerly drawing off his driving gloves,
"I've no feeling in my fingers at all. Those fellows will pull my hands
clean off some day."

But he was hardly settled in his place before he proposed to send the
coachman home, and to take Laura for a drive towards Lincoln Park, and
even a little way into the park itself. He promised to have her back
within an hour.

"I haven't any hat," objected Laura. "I should love to go, but I ran
over here to-night without any hat."

"Well, I wouldn't let that stand in my way, Laura," protested Mrs.
Cressler. "It will be simply heavenly in the Park on such a night as
this."

In the end Laura borrowed Page's hat, and Jadwin took her away. In the
light of the street lamps Mrs. Cressler and the others watched them
drive off, sitting side by side behind the fine horses. Jadwin,
broad-shouldered, a fresh cigar in his teeth, each rein in a double
turn about his large, hard hands; Laura, slim, erect, pale, her black,
thick hair throwing a tragic shadow low upon her forehead.

"A fine-looking couple," commented Mr. Cressler as they disappeared.

The hoof beats died away, the team vanished. Landry Court, who stood
behind the others, watching, turned to Mrs. Cressler. She thought she
detected a little unsteadiness in his voice, but he repeated bravely:

"Yes, yes, that's right. They are a fine, a--a fine-looking couple
together, aren't they? A fine-looking couple, to say the least."

A week went by, then two, soon May had passed. On the fifteenth of that
month Laura's engagement to Curtis Jadwin was formally announced. The
day of the wedding was set for the first week in June.

During this time Laura was never more changeable, more puzzling. Her
vivacity seemed suddenly to have been trebled, but it was invaded
frequently by strange reactions and perversities that drove her friends
and family to distraction.

About a week after her talk with Mrs. Cressler, Laura broke the news to
Page. It was a Monday morning. She had spent the time since breakf