a languidness which did
_not_ deceive. "I think I can change to my riding-habit almost within
that time."

"We'll be delighted to wait," asserted Miss Westlake eagerly, herself
looking apprehensively down the driveway; "won't we, boys?"

"Sure; what is it?" returned Princeman.

"Josephine says that if we'll wait five minutes longer she'll go with
us."

"We'll wait an hour if need be," declared Princeman gallantly.

"It won't need be," said Miss Stevens lightly, and hurrying into the
office she ordered the clerk to send for her saddle-horse.

For ten interminable minutes Miss Westlake never took her eyes from the
road, at the end of which time Miss Stevens returned, hatted and
habited and booted and whipped.

The Hollis Creek young lady was rather grim as she rode down the
graveled approach beside Miss Westlake, and both the girls cast furtive
glances behind them as they turned away from the Meadow Brook road.
When they were safely out of sight around the next bend, Miss Westlake
laughed.

"Mr. Turner is such a funny person," said she. "He's liable at any
moment to forget all about everything and everybody if somebody
mentions business to him. If he ever takes time to get married he'll
make it a luncheon hour appointment."

Even Miss Josephine laughed.

"And even then," she added, by way of elaboration, "the bride is likely
to be left waiting at the church." There was a certain snap and
crackle to whatever Miss Stevens said just now, however, which
indicated a perturbed and even an angry state of mind.

Ten minutes later, Sam Turner, hatless, and carrying a buggy whip and
wearing a torn coat, trudged up the Hollis Creek Inn drive, afoot, and
walked rapidly into the office.

"Is Miss Stevens about?" he wanted to know.

"Not at present," the clerk informed him. "She ordered out her horse a
few minutes ago, and started over to Sunset Rock with a party of young
people from Meadow Brook."

"Which way is Sunset Rock?"

The clerk handed him a folder which contained a map of the roadways
thereabouts, and pointed out the way.

"Could you get me a saddle-horse right away?"

The clerk pounded a bell and ordered up a saddle-horse for Mr. Turner,
who immediately thereupon turned to the telephone, and, calling up
Meadow Brook, instructed the clerk at that resort to send a carriage
for Mr. Westlake, who was sitting in the trap, entirely unharmed but
disinclined to walk, at the foot of Laurel Hill; then he e