ff his cap and held the gate open for her. He
suffered an ugly suspense. What would she say? Would she speak to him at
all? Phrases that Sylvia might have used to her flashed through his
mind; then he saw her smile as usual. She held out her hand. The warmth
of her fingers seemed to reach his mind, making it less unyielding. The
fancy put him on his guard.

"I know you passed," she said.

He walked with her across the narrow yard to the porch.

"I think so, to-day."

She paused with her foot on the lower step. The light from the corner
disclosed her face, puzzled and undecided; and his uneasiness returned.

"I am just returning this," she said, holding up a book. "I'd be glad to
drop you at your lodging----"

"I'll wait."

While she was inside he paced the sidewalk. There had been a question in
her face, but not the vital one, which, indeed, she wouldn't have
troubled to ask. Sylvia had not recognized him, or, recognizing him, had
failed to give him away.

Betty came gracefully down the steps, and George followed her into the
pleasant obscurity of the automobile. He could scarcely see her white
figure, but he became aware again of the delightful and singular perfume
of her tawny hair. If Sylvia had spoken he never could have sat so close
to her. He had no business, anyway----

She snapped on the light. She laughed.

"I said you were bound to meet Lambert Planter."

He had started on false ground. At any moment the ground might give
way.

"If I wasn't quite honest about that the other morning," he said, "it
was because I had met Lambert Planter, but under circumstances I wanted
to forget."

"I'm sorry," she said, softly, "that I reminded you; but he seemed glad
to see you this morning. It is all right now, isn't it?"

"Yes," he answered, doubtfully.

That thrilling quality of her voice became more pronounced.

"I'm glad. For he's a good friend to have. He's a very real person; I
mean, a man who's likely to do big things, don't you think?"

"Yes," he said again.

Why was he conscious of resentment? Why did he ask himself quickly if
Lambert thought of her with equal benevolence? He pulled himself up
short. What earthly business was it of his what Betty Alston and Lambert
Planter thought of each other? But he regretted the briefness of his
companionship with Betty in the unaccustomed luxury of the car. It
surrounded him with a settled and congenial atmosphere; it lessened,
after the first moments, th