He remembered that kiss with a sudden choking, clutching sensation at his throat. Had she meant nothing by that? Nothing? No, she had meant all, everything that he had hoped! She did love him, and neither Vincent Graves nor anyone else could have her! But that exultation was short-lived. What she had meant was of little moment; she belonged to Vincent by promise if by naught else, and Vincent was his friend. Things were suddenly greatly simplified. His tangled thoughts smoothed themselves out and he gave a sigh that was partly of relief. At least his duty was plain. “No poaching on my preserves!” He had only to heed that warning and take himself out of the way. That thought steadied him down and his pulses ceased their deafening pounding. It wouldn’t be easy, that duty! He knew that well enough, although at this moment he was viewing it almost calmly. When the present excitement passed he would find it hard going! The prospect of facing Vincent troubled him more than anything else as he drew the canoe from the water and laid it on its rack under the trees. Vincent was probably even now awaiting him up there on the porch. For a moment he thought of taking the canoe again and stealing off up the stream for a ways and then walking across to the station and taking the train for――anywhere out of all this! But it would be a sneaking, cowardly thing to do. Besides, sooner or later Vincent and he must meet, and as well now as any time. He lighted a cigarette with fingers that trembled a little and walked up through the orchard. As he had expected, Vincent Graves was awaiting him on the porch. He was a tall, dark, fine-looking fellow, with a deep, pleasant voice and a remarkable, careless ease of manner; just the sort of a chap, Ethan told himself, that any sensible girl would fall in love with. Vincent did not see him for a moment, and in that moment Ethan had opportunity to study his friend with a new interest, view him from a novel point. But he found he could not be coldly critical; Vincent was Vincent, wholly admirable and lovable; and Ethan’s heart warmed under a sudden inrush of affection as he went forward with outstretched hand. “Hello, Vin!” he said. Vincent swung about, seized the hand and grasped it warmly. [Illustration] “Why, you old chump!” he responded, smiling broadly. “Aren’t you ashamed to look me in the eye? What have you been doing with yourself? How’s mythology?” “When did you come up?” asked Ethan, echoing the smile. “This morning. Stopped at――――” He looked at Ethan with a quick lowering of the eyebrows. “Look here, what’s the matter with you? You have the cheerful, care-free countenance of a gentleman strolling to the gallows! Been ill?” “Ill?” laughed Ethan. “Certainly not; never felt better in my life.”