n to slow down, her dread of
causing an accident through frightening some one's horse counteracting
her unwonted feeling of irresponsibility. The car had come almost to a
standstill when out of the recesses of the still distant buggy Persis
caught a flash of pink. She had the trained eye for color
characteristic of her profession. And this peculiarly trying shade of
pink she always associated with Diantha Sinclair, who had an audacious
fondness for testing her flawless coloring with hues capable of turning
the ordinary complexion to saffron.

Prompt action is characteristic of the intuitive. Logic takes time.
Persis never attempted to account for the unreasoning certainty which
on occasion took command of her actions. It was impossible for her to
recognize Diantha's companion or to know indeed, that the opalescent
flash of pink stood for Diantha's nearness. Yet she was sure of both
things and of much besides. And with her conviction that the case was
serious, an adequate plan of action instantly presented itself.

The car stopped with a jerk, and in the middle of the road, so that the
on-coming driver would have to exercise caution in passing. The
panting engine became silent. Persis alighted. She made several tours
of inspection of her property, her face expressive of gravest concern.
Occasionally she touched a screw or lever tentatively and then shook
her head. Finally dropping on her knees in the dust, she thrust her
head between the wheels and gazed inquiringly at the bottom of the car.
Thus occupied she was too engrossed to notice that the thud of horse's
hoofs was coming very near. Suddenly the sound ceased.

"Why," cried a girlish voice, "it's Miss Persis."

Persis gave up her unavailing scrutiny and climbed slowly to her feet.
As she dusted her knees, she welcomed the occupants of the buggy with a
fine blending of surprise and relief.

"Well, I venture to say I know just how ship-wrecked folks feel when
they're off on a raft in mid-ocean and they sight a sail. Ain't this a
funny fix, half past four in the afternoon and me ten miles from home?
And to make it worse I wrenched my knee a mite cleaning house this
morning." This last statement was strictly accurate though her limp as
she advanced toward them was exaggerated. "I don't know what I'd have
done," declared Persis, "if you hadn't happened along."

Diantha's face reflected the pinkness of the gown which had betrayed
her. Thad West looke