y more.

"GORDON."

It was simply maddening. Why couldn't he drive? Of course he had been
hurt. Why didn't he tell me what was the matter? Poor old chap, in spite
of some of his ways there is no man on earth I have ever been so fond
of, because, at bottom, there is something very manly and genuine in
him. When things got too hot for him he didn't go off somewhere and
mope; no, he naturally went and gave the best that was in him to a
service of noble charity and virile endeavor.

I ascertained over the phone the date of the _Rochambeau's_ probable
arrival and walked up the Avenue to a meeting with Ceballo, who was
worrying me to death over the ending of the fourth act. He's a most
obstinate man. At a busy corner I stopped to allow the passage of a
flood of autos. The crowd behind me pressed me forward, nearly against a
powerful gray roadster.

"Jump in quick, Mr. Cole," came a woman's voice.

I looked up. It was Miss Sophia Van Rossum who had spoken. The chauffeur
was in a little seat behind her and I swiftly obeyed, glad indeed to see
her again.

"Are you in a hurry to go anywhere, Mr. Cole, because I'll be glad to
take you wherever you want to go?"

"No," I replied, "I was killing time for about an hour. After that I
have an appointment."

"Then we can take a little turn in the Park," she said, approvingly.

The carriages and motors were so numerous that for some time we said
very little. I watched her self-reliant, skilful driving, and took an
occasional glance at her profile. It was beautiful as ever, perhaps more
so than ever, colored with health and a fair coat of tan. Once in the
Park, however, we found more room and she drove with less preoccupation.

"I--I've heard from you but twice this summer, Mr. Cole. Thank you for
letting me know that Gordon was still well. Have you any further news of
him?"

"Yes, I have just heard," I replied. "He is on his way back and I wrote
you this morning at Southampton."

I watched her closely. For a moment she drove on, looking neither to the
right or left, but I saw that her lower lip was being pressed on by her
teeth.

"He--he never let me know," she finally said. "I--I hope he will return
well and happy."

"Pardon me. I am afraid that something has happened to him," I said,
again. "Gordon is the sort of fellow who would see the thing through. He
would go on to the end, you know, and--and he didn't write, this time. I
have the cable here. You might stop