"Do you still vant to marry me--John?" The name was but a breath. He stared at her as if fascinated by the spell of her glowing eyes. With an effort he looked away from her to von Rittenheim. "Tell me," he said, huskily, "I don't understand. Her husband? Is----?" "She will not dishonor you," answered Friedrich to the unspoken question. "She'll merely br-reak your heart," completed von Sternburg, brutally. Wendell turned to Hilda in relief, to find her drawn haughtily erect before him. She did not notice his extended hands. "You doubted me," she flung at him, arrogantly. "I demand from those who love me, all--or nothing." She swept from the room, small, proud, forceful; while John threw himself upon a chair and buried his head in his hands. XXVII Dixie Gray Eagle was trotting briskly along the road over which another hand had guided him so often,--the Oakwood carriage-way. On his back sat Friedrich, erectly vigorous, singing for the trees' benefit,-- "Oh, I wees' I was in Deexie, Look away, look away! In Deexie Land I take my stand, To live and die in Deexie." The aspen fluttered its yellow leaves in applause, and the sourwood threw at him by the breeze's hand a cluster of its scarlet foliage. The mouse-gray goldenrod nodded approval of his mood, and the oak-trees swung their yet green boughs in sympathy with his light-hearted onward rush. The air was cool and warm, and bright and mellow, and all the contradictions that make October the month of the year's mature perfection; that middle age of the seasons, when the blossoms of folly are past, and the fruits of the will are ripened, and the chill of bare winter is still in the future. Occasionally, in sheer exuberance, von Rittenheim rose high in his stirrups and gave a whoop of gladness that made Gray Eagle skip in sympathetic deviation from his usual long stride. It was during one of these upstandings, when his head was brought above its customary level, that Friedrich saw a girl running away from the carriage-road down the lane that led to the sheep-farm. The sunshine burned on her brilliant head, and Gray Eagle found his glad career brought to a sudden close, and his amusement abruptly reduced to the occupation of nibbling the stem of the young tree to which he was tied. He watched his rider's long legs vault over the gate, and pondered wisely on the similarity of interests of his two masters, for he, too, now descried a flash of color in the distance. Sydney's race ended beneath a huge oak, against which she leaned, breathless and laughing, and faced her pursuer, who was close upon her. The musical ring of his rowelled spurs ceased as he grasped her hands. "_Unartiges Maedchen!_ Do you intend never to let me see you again? Tell me what you mean by it." Not a word said Sydney--only laughed at him provokingly.