he gently
pressed down the throttle; he had hired a dependable, high-priced car,
and the motor sang softly. The wind blew in Gloria's face and her zest
came back to her.

Gratton would not tell her where they were going; he made a great lark
of their escapade, assuring her gaily that their destination was
reserved as the final surprise for her. He evaded laughingly when she
asked. "Maybe we'll keep right on going, always and always," he jested
with her. She thought that under the jest there was a queer note; when
his eyes flashed briefly toward her she tried to read their message. But
the hour, mystery-filled, filled them with mystery.

Gloria began laughing.

"What will we look like to-morrow--I mean when it's full day! Me dressed
like this--you in evening suit!"

"By Jove!" said Gratton. Then he laughed with her. "It's the lark of my
life."

The ocean breeze smarted in their eyes, the motor thrummed merrily,
trees and houses flew by, the racing car leaped to fresh speed. On the
cement highway the spinning tyres whined musically.

They were far up-country when the sun rose. Gloria, very sleepy now,
watched it climb above the hills. She had watched the sunrise last
June--with Mark King. Later, again with Mark King, she had seen it
thrust its great burning disk above the pine ridges.

She was asleep and started wide awake when the car stopped suddenly.
They were in the one street of a little town; it must be eight o'clock.
She was cold.

"What do you say to a cup of coffee? And toast and eggs?"

"I am hungry," she confessed.

Over their breakfast in the little wayside restaurant, with its untidy
tables and greasy lunch-counter, it was Gratton who did all of the
talking. Gloria by now realized that she was downright sorry she had
come. He seemed eager, his eyes very bright, his voice quick and vibrant
with an electrical urge dominating. She wondered vaguely what made him
seem "different."

"The waiter," she said as they finished, "is staring his head off at our
clothes."

"We're going to remedy that matter. Come on; the stores are open."

"Fancy shopping here!" The thought made her laugh.

"Just the place for what we want. Khaki trousers and flannel shirt and
boots for me; an outing-suit for you."

He took her arm and they walked the half-dozen doors to the dry-goods
store.

"I haven't a cent with me----"

"Let me be your banker," he said lightly.

Gloria hesitated. But very briefly. Hot coffee h