Mr. Quentin, more in love than ever, and more deeply inspired by the longing to win where reason told him he must fail, did not flatter himself into believing that Mrs. Garrison wholly approved of the drive. Instead, he surmised from the beginning that Dorothy's flushed cheeks were not from happiness, but from excitement, and that he was not altogether a shadowy cause. With rare tact he plunged at once to the bottom of the sea of uncertainty and began to struggle upward to the light, preferring such a course to the one where you start at the top, go down and then find yourself powerless to get back to the surface. “Was your mother very much annoyed when you said you were coming out with me?” he asked. She started and a queer little tinge of embarrassment sprang into her eyes. “How absurd!” she said, readily, however. “Isn't the avenue beautiful?” “I don't know--yet,” he said, without looking at the avenue. “What did she say?” Miss Garrison did not reply, but looked straight ahead as if she had not heard him. “See here, Dorothy, I'm not a child and I'm not a lovesick fool. Just curious, that's all. Your mother has no cause to be afraid of me--” “You flatter yourself by imagining such a thing as--” “--because there isn't any more danger that I shall fall in love with you than there is of--of--well, of your falling in love with me; and you know how improbable--” “I don't see any occasion to refer to love in any way,” she said, icily. “Mamma certainly does not expect me to do such an extraordinary thing. If you will talk sensibly, Phil, we may enjoy the drive, but if you persist in talking of affairs so ridiculous--” “I can't say that I expect you to fall in love with me, so for once your mother and I agree. Nevertheless, she didn't want you to come with me,” he said, absolutely undisturbed. “How do you know she didn't?” she demanded, womanlike. Then, before she was quite aware of it, they were in a deep and earnest discussion of Mrs. Garrison, and her not very complimentary views. “And how do you feel about this confounded prospect, Dorothy? You are not afraid of what a few gossips--noble or otherwise--may say about a friendship that is entirely the business of two people and not the property of the general public? If you feel that I am in the way I'll gladly go, you know. Of course, I'd rather hate to miss seeing you once in a while, but I think I'd have the courage to--” “Oh, it's not nice of you to be sarcastic,” she cried, wondering, however, whether he really meant “gladly” when he said it. Somehow she felt herself admitting that she was piqued by his apparent readiness to abdicate. She did not know that he was cocksure of his ground before making the foregoing and other observations equally as indifferent. “I'm not sarcastic; quite the reverse. I'm very serious. You know how much I used to think of you--” “But that was long ago, and you were such a foolish boy,” she cried, interrupting nervously.