mer
people----"

"Becky doesn't know the summer people. Her great-grandparents were among
the first settlers and the Merediths have never sold the old home."

"She is a pretty little thing," George said. "And she's buried down
here."

"I shouldn't call it exactly--buried."

George, with his eyes on the peacock, smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Randy smiled and his eyes, too, were on the peacock. He was thinking
that there were certain points of resemblance between the gorgeous bird
and Dalton. They glimmered in the sunlight and strutted a bit----

He came back to say easily, "Has Becky told you of our happiness----"

George gave him a startled glance. "Happiness?"

"We are to be married when she comes back--at Christmas."

"Married----"

"Yes," coolly, "it was rather to be expected, you know. We played
together as children--our fathers played together--our grandfathers--our
great-grandfathers."

A cold wave seemed to sweep over George. So this young cub would have
her beauty!

"Aren't you rather young----?" he demanded, "and what have you to give
her?"

"Love," said Randy calmly, "a man's respect for her goodness and
worth--for her innocence. She's a little saint in a shrine."

"Is she?" Georgie-Porgie asked, and smiled to himself; "few women are
that."

After Randy had gone George Dalton walked the floor. He knew innocence
when he saw it, and he knew that Randy had told the truth. Becky
Bannister was as white as the doves that were flittering down to the
garden pool to drink. He had never cared particularly for innocence.
But he cared for Becky. He knew now that he cared tremendously. Randy
had made him know it. It had not seemed so bad to think of Becky as
breaking her heart and waiting for a word from him. It seemed very bad,
indeed, when he thought of her as married to Randy.

He felt that, of course, she did not love Randy; that he, Georgie-Porgie,
had all that she had to give---- But woman-like, she had taken this way
to get back at him. He wondered if she had sent Randy.

Up and down the terrace he raged like a lion. He wanted to show that
cub--oh, if he might show him----!

Randy had known that he would rage, and as he rode home he had the serene
feeling that he had stuck a splinter in George's flesh.

Oscar Waterman joined George on the terrace, but noticed nothing. His
mind was full of Flora. "I am sorry young Paine went so soon. I wanted
to thank him. Flora ca