of her. As it was, he found consolation in the thought
that some love affairs did come out right. And for all he knew, maybe
Luck had stacked the cards for him to win. Some men were born lucky,
lived lucky all their days, and died lucky. Perhaps, too, he was such
a man, a born luck-pup who could not lose.

Sunday came, and Bob, out in the Piedmont hills, behaved like an angel.
His goodness, at times, was of the spirited prancing order, but
otherwise he was a lamb. Daylight, with doubled quirt ready in his
right hand, ached for a whirl, just one whirl, which Bob, with an
excellence of conduct that was tantalizing, refused to perform. But no
Dede did Daylight encounter. He vainly circled about among the hill
roads and in the afternoon took the steep grade over the divide of the
second range and dropped into Maraga Valley. Just after passing the
foot of the descent, he heard the hoof beats of a cantering horse. It
was from ahead and coming toward him. What if it were Dede? He turned
Bob around and started to return at a walk. If it were Dede, he was
born to luck, he decided; for the meeting couldn't have occurred under
better circumstances. Here they were, both going in the same
direction, and the canter would bring her up to him just where the
stiff grade would compel a walk. There would be nothing else for her
to do than ride with him to the top of the divide; and, once there, the
equally stiff descent on the other side would compel more walking.

The canter came nearer, but he faced straight ahead until he heard the
horse behind check to a walk. Then he glanced over his shoulder. It
was Dede. The recognition was quick, and, with her, accompanied by
surprise. What more natural thing than that, partly turning his horse,
he should wait till she caught up with him; and that, when abreast they
should continue abreast on up the grade? He could have sighed with
relief. The thing was accomplished, and so easily. Greetings had been
exchanged; here they were side by side and going in the same direction
with miles and miles ahead of them.

He noted that her eye was first for the horse and next for him.

"Oh, what a beauty" she had cried at sight of Bob. From the shining
light in her eyes, and the face filled with delight, he would scarcely
have believed that it belonged to a young woman he had known in the
office, the young woman with the controlled, subdued office face.

"I didn't know you rode," was one