ledge. She was intent upon meeting Philip in
Robert's company; she wanted to bow to him, and smile, and let him see
that there was one man at least who prized her, if he did not. But the
imp of perversity seemed to have come to abide permanently in the
Park. Though Marion, in the first two days of Robert's visit, guided
him, in the big automobile, everywhere except beyond the Ridge and to
the glade of the columbines, she had never a glimpse of Philip. All
this maddened her; and if Robert had but spoken, there were times
when--But Robert did not speak.

Near noon of the third day they met Smythe in the main valley road a
mile or so below the post-office. At sight of him bobbing along toward
them, almost lost between his horse and his sombrero, Marion's first
impulse was to speed past him without stopping. She was not sure she
could trust his discretion; for she had told Robert nothing about
Philip Haig. But she did not wish to offend the faithful Smythe; and
so, on second thought, she hurriedly acquainted Robert with the
identity of the approaching figure, and warned him to control his
inevitable mirth.

"He is funny," she said, laughing in spite of herself, "but he can't
help that. He's been very good to me, in his way."

In the meantime Smythe's horse was deciding the matter on his own
account. This was the first automobile the pony had ever seen, and he
made up his mind promptly that he did not like it. He reared and
bucked, bolting first to one side and the other of the road, and
refused to consider Smythe's well-worded assurance that wise horses
were really fond of automobiles, which were taking a great deal of
work off their shoulders.

Hillyer stopped the machine, and cut off the power. But the pony's
suspicions had been thoroughly aroused, and the sudden silence seemed
to him more portentous than even the noise of the motor. Smythe
thereupon had his work cut out for him, but he would not compromise
either by dismounting, or by turning and riding away. Slowly and
patiently he urged the frightened pony toward the automobile until,
after many setbacks and panics, he had brought him near enough for
conversation.

"There now, Peanuts!" he said to the prancing animal. "You see you
were quite mistaken." Then, to Hillyer and Marion: "He's a little like
myself. He doesn't really believe in ghosts, but he's dreadfully
afraid of them."

"I didn't know you were such an accomplished horseman," said Marion.

"Didn't