They were moving slowly now.  A great car came honking up behind, roared past, and became a red star in the distance.  Another flashed out ahead, glared down upon them, and whizzed by.  Nelson Randolph spoke again.

“Have you no hope for me?”

“Oh, yes!” It barely rose through the purring of the car.

His right hand left the wheel and closed over the two little gray-gloved ones folded so quietly.

“You shall never regret it!” he promised.  “I will try to make you forget this year of misery.”

The talk ran on.  As they passed through th6 outskirts of Fair Harbor, he said:—­

“I expect to go to New York to-morrow morning on the 6.30 train.  If I can get through my business in time I shall come back in the evening; but I am afraid it will be too late for a ride.  That will have to wait until Thursday.  I don’t know how I am going to communicate with you.  I cannot bear to leave you without any means of letting me know if you are in trouble.”

“I don’t think there will be any trouble,” she said contentedly.

“There might be.  How would it do for me to tell the Dragon that you belong to me and that you are to be free to go and come as you please or to use the telephone whenever you like?”

“Oh, don’t!” A note of fear was in her voice.

“You had better lock your door at night, then.  There is a key?”

“Yes, but it is subject to rules.”

“Ignore rules and lock the door!  Dragons are not to be trusted.  And remember, if there should be any trouble whatever, call me at once,—­in some way,—­and I will drop everything and come.”

“Thank you!  You are so good!”

He laughed softly.  “Good to myself!”

They sped along Edgewood Avenue, and the car stopped in the shadow of a great maple.  Miss Sterling threw off her borrowed wrap.

He stepped to the ground and put out his arms.  What could she do but walk into them!

“I will go in with you,” he said, as he set her gently down.

Her face was still aflame with his kisses when they entered the big door together.

Miss Sniffen met them in the hall.

“You are late,” she said with a half smile.  “Have you had an accident?”

“Oh, no!” Nelson Randolph answered.  “We went up to Bryston to dinner, that is all.  Miss Sterling thought she had better return home early, but I coaxed her to keep on and find out how Belgian hare tasted.”  He laughed lightly and said good-night.

Miss Sterling’s foot was on the stair when the superintendent arrested her.

“You are too late for chapel,” she said severely.

“I was afraid I would be,” was the reply.

“This must not occur again.  Do you know that Mr. Randolph is to marry Miss Puddicombe?”

“I heard so,” she smiled.

“The wedding-day is set!”

“So I was told.”