s the village, and
we can talk over--things."

Gilbert felt a chill at his heart. Here, indeed, was the irony of fate.

"I--oh, I'm so sorry," he stammered, in blank dismay. "I've promised
to drive some one else back." The confession was out before he thought.

"It's that Miss Cameron with the red hair!" cried Rosalie, with
startling suddenness.

Gilbert's face grew hot. "Well, and what of that?" he asked reasonably.

Rosalie held her pretty head high. "Tell her you must take me," she
said firmly.

"Rosalie!" cried Gilbert, "you couldn't ask me to do that. Miss
Cameron is a lady, and she is proud, and----wait. Come for a little
drive now. We can be back before the others are ready to leave."

"I will, if you promise me you will not drive her home afterward."

"Surely," he cried in dismay, "you wouldn't want me to be rude to her?"

Rosalie stood for a moment looking searchingly at him. He was changed.
He was not the boy who for three years had been ready to do her
slightest bidding, no matter what the consequences. Just because she
had condescended to become engaged to him he was assuming airs of
authority. Well, their engagement was a secret yet--she had insisted
upon that--and she could soon find a way to frighten him into
submission.

"It's the only favor I've asked of you for six months," she said
coldly, "and if you do not want to grant it I shall never humiliate
myself by asking another."

"Rosalie!" cried Gilbert desperately, "if you only understood----"

"I understand only too well," she flashed back. "Are you coming, or
are you not?"

"I am very sorry," said Gilbert, politely but stubbornly, "but I cannot
be rude to a lady even for your sake."

She turned her back upon him without another word, and walking straight
up to Elsie Cameron, began to talk to her in the friendliest manner.
Gilbert stood watching her, puzzled and dismayed, and wondering
desperately what he should do, when the attention of all was called by
a singular proceeding on the race track.

An interesting display, the chief number on the program, had just
closed--the exhibition of ladies' horsemanship, and, as usual, Ella
Anne Long had carried off the palm. After the prizes were awarded it
was the custom for the winners to drive around the ring several times,
each lady bearing with her some highly-favored youth, somewhat as the
conquering Romans attached their most distinguished captives to their
triumphal car. Wh