he would only have consented to on the
spur of the moment. She was one of these women who responded
automatically to the voice of a master. He had failed in mastery this
last year or so. That was the secret of his failure with her, but the
days of that failure were numbered now. He was going to succeed.

On the back seat of the big car he expected Billy and Caroline to be
going through much the same sort of scene.

"We've come to a show-down now, Caroline,--either I sit in this
game, or get out." He could imagine Billy bringing Caroline bluntly
to terms with comparatively little effort. That was what she
needed--Caroline--a strong hand. Billy's problem was simple.
Caroline had already signified her preference for him. She wore his
ring. Billy had only to pick her up, kicking and screaming if need
be, and bear her to the altar. She would marry him if he insisted.
That was clear to the most superficial of observers,--but Nancy was
different.

The day was hot, and grew steadily hotter. By the time Nancy and
Caroline were actually in the car, after an almost superhuman effort
to assemble them and their various accessories of veils and wraps, and
to dispose of the assortment of errands and messages that both girls
seemed to be committed to despatch before they could pass the
boundaries of Greater New York, the two men were very nearly
exhausted. It was only when the chauffeur let the car out to a speed
greatly in excess of the limitations on some clear stretch of road,
that the breath of the country brought them any relief whatsoever.

Dick looked over his shoulder at the two in the back seat, and noted
Caroline's pallor, and the fact that she was allowing a listless hand
to linger in Billy's; but when he turned back to Nancy he discovered
no such encouraging symptoms. She was sitting lightly relaxed at his
side, but there was nothing even negatively responsive in her
attitude. Her color was high; her breath coming evenly from between
her slightly parted lips. She looked like a child oblivious to
everything but some innocent daydream.

"You look as if you were dreaming of candy and kisses, Nancy,--are
you?" he asked presently.

"No, I'm just glad to be free. It's been a long time since I've played
hooky."

"I know it." The "dear" constrained him, and he did not add it:
"You've been working most unholy hard. I--I hate to have you."

"But I was never so happy in my life."

"That's good." His voice hoarsened with th