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I had not. Her driver gathered the reins and I drew back.

Certainly no cricket ever dropped blither music from his legs than did my beautiful horse that glorious morning as we clattered in perfect rhythm on the hard clean road of the wide pine forest. Ah! the forest is not there now; the lumbermen--

"Mis-ter Smith! you wrote that?--to-day! Wh'--who is she?"

"I was so anxious about you," she replied, with feeling, and then broke into a quizzical laugh.

I mumbled something about never wishing to tempt any one.

I laughed a gay disdain. "Who is Lucius; is he Charlotte's husband?"

"Of course no one has seen this despatch, eh?--Oh!"--a smile--"yes? who?"

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