d.

"No." Indignation stirred within her. How easy it was for him to play
the game. And last night she had lain long awake, listening for the
sound of his motor. She had seen the moon set, and spectral dawn steal
into the garden. "No, I'm running away. I am tired of drifting always
on the tides of other people's inclination. We have stayed down here
where it is hot because Oscar and Flora like it, yet there's all the
coolness of the North Shore waiting for us----"

She rose and walked to the edge of the terrace. The garden was
splashed now with clear color, purple and rose and gold. The air was
oppressive, with a gathering haze back of the hills.

"I'm tired of it. Some day I'm going to flap my wings and fly away
where you won't be able to find me, Georgie. I'd rather be a wild gull
to the wind-swept sky, than a tame pigeon--to eat from your hand----"
She said it lightly; this was not a moment for plaintiveness.

There was a dancing light in his eyes. "You're a golden pheasant--and
you'll never fly so far that I shan't find you."

Oscar arriving at this moment saved a retort. "Flora's not well. We
can't motor up, Madge."

"I am sorry but I can take a train."

"There's one at three. I don't see why you are going," irritably;
"Flora won't stay here long after you leave."

"I am not as necessary as you think, Oscar. There are plenty of
others, and I must go----"

"Oh, very well. Andrews will drive you down."

"I'll drive her myself," said Dalton.

II

Aunt Claudia was going to Washington also on the three o'clock train.
She had had a wireless from Truxton who had sailed from Brest and would
arrive at New York within the week.

"Of course you'll go and meet him, Aunt Claudia," Becky had said; "I'll
help you to get your things ready."

Aunt Claudia, quite white and inwardly shaken by the thought of the
happiness which was on its way to her, murmured her thanks.

Becky, divining something of the tumult which was beneath that outward
show of serenity, patted the cushions of the couch in Mrs. Beaufort's
bedroom. "Lie down here, you darling dear. It was such a surprise,
wasn't it?"

"Well, my knees are weak," Mrs. Beaufort admitted.

The nuns had taught Becky nice ways and useful arts, so she folded and
packed under Aunt Claudia's eye and was much applauded.

"Most girls in these days," said Mrs. Beaufort, "throw things in. Last
summer I stayed at a house where the girls sat on their