haven't
seen her in a long time. But how comes it that she speaks of me? I
can't see any occasion for it."

"Oh, I don't know! She talks of you very often. She thinks a lot of
David. You know he goes up there with me a good deal."

"David Collins!--goes up to see Mrs. Jocelyn?" Colonel Gresham was
plainly surprised.

"Why, not Mrs. Jocelyn exactly, but Leonora. Didn't he ever say
anything about it? We go up 'most every week."

"Ah, yes, Leonora! I had forgotten. She is the adopted child?"

Polly recounted the story of Leonora's adoption, to which the Colonel
listened attentively; but he made few comments, and when it ended he
was silent.

Polly did not know what to think of Colonel Gresham to-day; in fact
she began to feel as if she were not quite acquainted with him. She
was strangely reminded of that other day, not a year ago, when she
chose her happy reward, "to the half of his kingdom." If he were like
this at home, she wondered no more that David sometimes refrained from
asking him questions. She was still thinking about it, when, suddenly,
his customary genial manner returned, and they reached home in such
high spirits that David would have been surprised to have learned that
any part of the drive had been passed in silence.

CHAPTER XVII

A SUMMER NIGHT MYSTERY

David Collins was on the piazza with a book when he heard the call. He
sprang up and ran to the end towards Lady Gay Cottage.

"Hullo, Pollee! What is it?"

"Can you come over? I'm all alone. Mother's gone to ride with the
Scribners, and father's up in Forestford at a consultation."

"I'll come right now. Say, this is a dandy book! Shall I bring it
along?"

By the time the story was finished, David reading it aloud, it was too
dusky for another, and the children sat and talked, one in the
hammock, the other in the lounging-chair.

Presently Colonel Gresham drove out. David watched him, while Polly
indulged in her usual admiration of Lone Star. The carriage was out of
sight before the boy turned his eyes from the road where it had
vanished.

"I do wonder where he is going," he sighed.

"Probably to give the poor horse some fresh air and exercise,"
responded Polly. "I see him go out nearly every night about this
time."

"Yes, I know," returned David grimly, "but it isn't just for Lone
Star's health."

"Maybe it's business then. Did you wish you were with him?"

"Oh, no, not that at all!" David hastened to say. "Perhaps I o