As the fugitive and his protectress passed out through the verandah and turned away from the bridge toward the car, they were relieved to see that Blake was not yet in sight. Genevieve was hastening out the track to where her father and Dolores and Lord James stood beside the heavily loaded bridge-service train.

Before Genevieve could reach the others, Lord James and Dolores came toward her, and Dolores cried out the joyful news: "It's safe, Vievie!—the bridge is safe now! Mr. Blake will be ashore in a few minutes."

"You're sure, James?" asked Genevieve. "Quite safe?—and he—?"

"Yes, yes, give you my word! Perfectly safe now, he said, and he'll be coming soon. Er—Miss Dolores, there's your mother going back to the car."

"And Laffi with her!"

"Quite true—quite true. I say now—you've left your muff in the office. You'll be chilled—nipping keen wind, this. We'd best go inside while we're waiting."

"Yes," agreed the girl. "Come back in, Vievie."

"No, no, dear. I'll come later. I'll wait here with papa."

"Ah, if you prefer," murmured Lord James. "But you, Miss
Dolores—really you should not stand out in this wind."

"Oh, well, if you insist," she acquiesced, with seeming reluctance.

"I do, indeed!" he replied, and he hurried her to the office.

When they entered, he led her to the big drum heating stove in the corner of the room, and went across to the inner door. He opened it, and called a terse order to Ashton's valet. He then closed the door and locked it.

Dolores started to edge toward the outer door. But he was too quick for her. He hastened across and cut off her retreat.

"No, no!" he declared. "You sha'n't run away."

"Run away?" she rejoined, drawing herself up with a strong show of indignation.

"It's—it's the very first opportunity I've had—the first time alone with you all these days," he answered. "I must insist! I—I beg your pardon, but I must find out, really I must! It seemed to me that—that just now you waved to me, from the window."

"To you? But how could I tell, so far off, that Mr. Blake was not on the train?"

"So that was it?" he replied, suddenly dashed. "Very stupid of me—very! Yet—yet—I must say it! Miss Gantry—Dolores, you've insisted on showing me your deepened dislike even since that evening. But you're so sincere, so candid—if only you'll tell me my faults, I'll do anything I possibly can to please you, to win your regard!"

"Ho! so that's it?" she jeered. "Because Vievie threw you over, you think I'll do as second choice—you think I'm waiting to catch you on the rebound."

"You?" he exclaimed. "How could that be? You've always been so frank in showing your dislike for me—how could I think that? But if only I might convince you how desirous I am to—to overcome your antipathy!"

"Lord Avondale," she said, "it is probable that you are laboring under a misconception. I am not an heiress; I am not wealthy. We are barely well-to-do. So, you see—"

"Ah, yes! And you—" he exclaimed, stepping nearer to her—"you, then, shall see that it is yourself alone! If I can but win you! Tell me, now—why is it you dislike me? I'll do anything in my power. Forget I'm my father's son—that I'm English. I must win you! Tell me how I can overcome your dislike!"

Dolores drew back, blushing first scarlet then crimson with blissful confusion. All her ready wit fled from her and left her quivering with the sweet agitation of her love.

"But it's—it's not true, Jimmy!" she whispered. "I don't—I'm not what you think me! I'm not sincere or honest—I'm just a liar! I've been pretending all along. It's not true that I ever disliked you!"

"Not true?" he asked incredulously.

She gave him a glance that answered him far more clearly than words. He started toward her impulsively.

"Dolores!—it can't be!"

She avoided him, in an attempt to delay the inevitable surrender.

"Ware danger, your earlship!" she mocked. "I warn you I'm a designing female. How do you know it's not the coronet I'm after?"

"Dearest!" he exclaimed, and this time he succeeded in capturing the hand that she flung out to fend him off.

"Wait—wait!" she protested. "This is most—ah—indecorous. Think how shocked mamma would be. You haven't even declared your intentions."

"My intentions," he stated, "are to do—this!" He boldly placed his arm about her shoulders, and bent down over her back-tilted head. "My dear Miss Gantry, I have the honor of saluting—the future Countess of Avondale!"

Instead of shrinking—from him, as he half feared, she slipped an arm up about his neck.

With a blissful sigh, she drew back from the kiss, to answer him in a tone of tender mockery: "The Right Honorable the Earl of Avondale is informed that his—ah—salute is received with pleasure."

"Darling!"

"Wait," she teased. "You have it all turned 'round. You've yet to tell me the exact moment when. Vievie took second place."

"My word! How am I to answer that? Really, it's quite impossible to tell. You piqued my interest from the very first."

"But did you still lo—like Vievie when you proposed to her?"

"Er—yes—quite true. That was the day after our arrival from New York, y'know."

"Of course. But I wished to make doubly sure that you were sincere with her. Oh, Jimmy, to think I've got you, after all! I'm so happy!"

He promptly offered another salute, which was not refused.

The sound of quick steps in the vestibule startled them. Dolores sprang away as Genevieve came hurrying in, too agitated to heed her cousin's blushes.

"Oh! I'm so glad you're still here!" she panted. "He's coming ashore. I—I told papa to tell him that—but not that I'm here! I must—I want to—"

"To play puss-in-the-corner with your Tom," rallied Dolores. "Oh, Vievie! who'd have thought it? You've lost your head! Hide over here behind the stove."

Greatly to her surprise, Genevieve instantly ran over and hid herself in the corner behind the big stove. Dolores and Lord James stared at one another. It was the first time that they had ever seen Genevieve flurried.

"Why, Vievie!" exclaimed the girl, "I actually believe you're frightened."

"No, I'm not. It's only that I must have time to—to think."

"Ah," said Lord James, with sympathetic readiness.

"I shall go out and meet him—detain him a bit."

"No, no. It's very kind of you, James. But there's no need. If only you and Dolores will wait and speak with him. I—I wish to hear how his voice sounds—first."

"Well, of all things!" rallied Dolores. "Can't you imagine how it will sound? He'll be hoarse as a crow, after shouting all his heroic orders to save the bridge. Ten to one, he'll have a fine cold, too—out there in this wind. Jimmy says it's really nawsty, y'know, with the beastly zephyrs wafting through the bloomin' steel-work, and the water so deuced far down below—quite a bit awful, don't y'know!"

"Don't tease, dear," begged Genevieve. "But you said 'Jimmy'! Oh, have you really—?"

Her face appeared around the bulge of the stove, flushed with delight. But the sound of a heavy tread in the verandah caused it to disappear on the instant.

Blake came in slowly and with anything but an elated look. It was evident that Mr. Leslie had refrained from rousing his expectations. He stared at Dolores in surprise.

"You, Miss Dolores?"

"What?" she teased. "You surely did not think it would be Vievie, did you?"

"Didn't think—"

"Yes—with Jimmy." She held out her hand to Lord James, who clasped it fondly.

Blake caught the glance that passed between them. His face darkened.

"Her?" he muttered. "Didn't think you were the kind to play fast and loose, Jimmy!"

"Tom! You can't believe that of me!" protested the Englishman.
"Couldn't explain matters out there among all your men, y' know, but
Genevieve insisted upon terminating our engagement the very morning
after. I had said nothing. She had already seen her mistake."

"Mistake?" queried Blake.

"You men are so silly," criticised Dolores, with a mischievous glance toward the stove. "You ought to 've known she loved you, all the time. Of course you won't believe it till she herself tells you."

Blake looked about the room. Genevieve was close behind the stove. He shook his head and muttered despondently: "Till she tells me!"

"Did you ever play puss-in-the-corner?" asked Dolores.

"You witch!" exclaimed Lord James. To divert her attention, he drew her to him and slipped a ring on her slender finger. "Ha! Caught you napping! It's on—fast!" She gave him an adorable look. "If it's ever taken off, you'll have to do it."

"That shall be—never!" he replied. Drawing her arm through his, he led her toward the door. "We're on our way, Tom. See you later at the car, I daresay. Must go now to break the news to 'Mamma.'"

"Won't she be surprised!" exulted Dolores. "It's such a joke that you
and Genevieve didn't tell her! She's so sure of her methods—so sure.
She'll find there are others who have methods, won't she, Lord
Avondale?"

"Most charming methods!" agreed Lord James.

"S'long, Jimmy!" said Blake, gripping the other's carelessly offered hand. "Here's congratulations and good luck to you! Tell her—tell the others good-bye for me. I'll not come to the car. Tell 'em I'm too—too busy."

"Right-o! But we'll look to see you in town before a great while," replied Lord James, and he hurried Dolores out through the vestibule.

From the verandah the girl's clear voice sounded through the closed doors, free and merry, almost mocking.