ner's house is the prettiest place of the sort in California. Mrs.
Gaylor's never been, but she reads a lot about society folk and their
doings in the papers. You'll sure have a good time."

"Why do you say 'you'? They invited you, too."

"Yes, and that was _really_ kind," Nick said. "It isn't 'kindness' to ask
you, because 'twould be an honour to have your visit. But they don't want
me. I was asked only because I happened to be with you, and Mrs. Harland
was afraid my feelings would be hurt if I was left out."

"I'm sure you're mistaken," Angela insisted, laughing within herself
because he had not seen Theo's manoeuvres. "Of course they want you." She
could not add what was in her mind. "Anyway, Miss Dene does." As for
Carmen, Angela had no idea that the invitation was to be extended to her,
and the figure of Mrs. Gaylor, who, according to Theo, intended to marry
Hilliard, loomed less important than after listening to Miss Dene's
gossip. Of course, it would be a good thing for him to care for Mrs.
Gaylor, and if she were really nice, to marry her in the end. Only, when a
young woman is in a motor-car with a handsome "forest creature" who
appears to live only for her pleasure, she does not think much beyond the
hour. For that hour he may be hers, and hers alone, though to-morrow they
part; and she shuts her eyes to anything so far away, so out of the
picture, as an "end."

"I'm not Mrs. Harland's kind," Nick explained; "nor Falconer's, though
he's too big a man to care for what people call 'social distinctions.'
They'd be kind to me if I went, and wouldn't let me feel any difference
they could help. But there'd be a house-party, maybe, and I wouldn't know
any one. I'd be 'out of it.' I couldn't stand for that, Mrs. May."

"You're sensitive," Angela said.

"In some ways," Nick admitted. But he did not admit the truth; that he
could not, and would not, go to Rushing River Camp because he was jealous
of Falconer. To Nick it seemed impossible that any man, free to love,
could be five minutes in Angela's society without falling in love with
her.

He had had his moments of hope, but with Falconer for a rival the
handicap was too great. Not that Nick meant to give up the fight; but if
she went to Shasta it would be a knockdown blow. John Falconer was high
enough for a place in Mrs. May's own world. Nick despised jealousy as
common and shameful, and had always scorned men who yielded to so mean a
vice. Now, however, they