in the background unless called upon."

This was a seconding of her brother's proposition with a vengeance.
Taking the purse she handed me, I weighed it for a moment in my hand,
and then slowly shook my head. "Impossible," I cried; "but"--and I fixed
my eyes intently upon her countenance--"if there is any one in
particular whom you desire me to ignore, I am ready to listen to a
description of his person. It has always been my pleasure to accommodate
myself as much as possible to the whims of the ladies."

It was a bold stroke that might have cost me the game. Indeed, I half
expected she would raise her voice and order some of the men about her
to eject me from the grounds. But instead of that she remained for a
moment blushing painfully, but surveying me with an unfaltering gaze
that reminded me of her father's.

"There _is_ a person," said she, in a low, restrained voice, "whom I am
especially anxious should remain unmolested, whatever he may or may not
be seen to do. He is a guest," she went on, a sudden pallor taking the
place of her blushes, "and has a right to be here; but I doubt if he at
once enters the house, and I even suspect he may choose to loiter awhile
in the grounds before attempting to join the company. I ask you to allow
him to do so."

I bowed with an appearance of great respect. "Describe him," said I.

For a moment she faltered, with a distressed look I found it difficult
to understand. Then, with a sudden glance over my person, exclaimed:
"Look in the glass when you get home and you will see the _fac-simile_
of his form, though not of his face. He is fair, whereas you are dark."
And with a haughty lift of her head calculated to rob me of any
satisfaction I might have taken in her words, she stepped slowly back.

I stopped her with a gesture. "Miss," said I, "take your purse before
you go. Payment of any service I may render your father will come in
time. This affair is between you and me, and I hope I am too much of a
gentleman to accept money for accommodating a lady in so small a matter
as this."

But she shook her head. "Take it," said she, "and assure me that I may
rely on you."

"You may rely on me without the money," I replied, forcing the purse
back into her hand.

"Then I shall rest easy," she returned, and retreated with a lightsome
air toward the house.

The next moment I was on the highway with my thoughts. What did it all
mean? Was it, then, a mere love affair across which I