ht."

He prepared to go. At the door Hagar said to him, "Shall I see you again?"

"Probably in the morning. Good-night."

Telford went back to the hotel and found the horse he had ordered at the
door. He got up at once. People looked at him curiously, it was peculiar
to see a man riding at night for pleasure, and, of course, it could be for
no other purpose. "When will you be back, sir?" said the groom.

"I do not know." He slipped a coin into the groom's hand. "Sit up for me.
The beast is a good one?"

"The best we have. Been a hunter, sir."

Telford nodded, stroked the horse's neck and started. He rode down toward
the gate. He saw Mildred Margrave coming toward him.

"Oh, Mr. Telford!" she said. "You forsook us to-day, which was unkind.
Mamma says--she has seen you, she tells me--that you are a friend of my
stepfather, Mr. Gladney. That's nice, for I like you ever so much, you
know." She raised her warm, intelligent eyes to his. "I've felt since you
came yesterday that I'd seen you before, but mamma says that's impossible.
You don't remember me?"

"I didn't remember you," he said.

"I wish I were going for a ride, too, in the moonlight. I mean mamma and I
and you. You ride as well as you drive, of course."

"I wish you were going with me," he replied.--He suddenly reached down his
hand. "Good-night" Her hand was swallowed in his firm clasp for a moment
"God bless you, dear!" he added, then raised his hat quickly and was gone.

"I must have reminded him of some one," the girl said to herself. "He
said, 'God bless you, dear!'"

About that time Mrs. Detlor received a telegram from the doctor of a
London hospital. It ran:

Your husband here. Was badly injured in a channel collision last
night. Wishes to see you.

There was a train leaving for London a half hour later. She made ready
hastily, inclosed the telegram in an envelope addressed to George Hagar,
and, when she was starting, sent it over to his rooms. When he received
it, he caught up a time table, saw that a train would leave in a few
minutes, ran out, but could not get a cab quickly, and arrived at the
station only to see the train drawing away. "Perhaps it is better so," he
said, "for her sake."

That night the solitary roads about Herridon were traveled by a solitary
horseman, riding hard. Mark Telford's first ambition when a child was to
ride a horse. As a man he liked horses almost better than men. The cool,
stirring rush of wind on