not go, then," she said slowly.

"Sure thing!" replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. "There is no
necessity--slight accident--no need to make a fuss about it."

"But you said it was a serious accident--a terrible thing," said
Patricia.

"Oh, now, Patricia, come out of it. You check a fellow up so hard. Can't
you understand the Johnny was so deucedly worked up over it he
couldn't give me the right of it. Dash it all! Let's have another turn,
Patricia!"

But Adrien said: "I think we will go home, Hugh."

"Very well, if you think so, Adrien. I don't fancy you need worry over
Annette. The accident probably is serious but not dangerous. Tony is a
tough fellow."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Vic. "Just as I have been telling you. Serious, but
not dangerous. At least, that was the impression I got."

"Oh, Vic, you are so terribly confusing!" exclaimed Patricia. "Why can't
you get things straight? I say, Adrien, we can ride round to Annette's
on our way home, and then we will get things quite clearly."

"Certainly," said Hugh. "It will only take us a minute. Eh, what!" he
added to Vic, who was making frantic grimaces at him. "Well, if you
ladies will get your things, we will go."

"But I am so disappointed," said Patricia to Adrien, as they went to
their dressing room together.

After they had gone, Hugh turned upon Vic: "Now then, what the deuce and
all are you driving at?"

"Driving at!" cried Vic, in an exasperated tone. "You are a sweet
support for a fellow in distress. I am a nervous wreck--a perfect mess.
Another word from that kid and I should have run screaming into the
night. And as for you, why the deuce didn't you buck up and help a
fellow out?"

"Help you out? How in the name of all that is reasonable could I help
you out? What is all the yarn about? Of course I know it isn't true.
Where's Maitland?"

"Search me," said Vic. "All I know is that I hit upon that Scotch Johnny
out in the hall--he nearly wrenched an arm off me and did everything
but bite--spitting out incoherent gaspings indicating that Maitland
had 'gone awa' wi' his gur-r-l, confound him!' and suggesting the usual
young Lochinvar stuff. You know--nothing in it, of course. But what was
I to do? Some tale was necessary! Fortunately or unfortunately, brother
Tony sprang to the thing I call my mind and--well, you know the mess
I made of it. But Hugh, remember, for heaven's sake, make talk about
something--about the match--and get that girl quietly