Dick knew well enough that it was more than fear for the result of the game that had caused her to rush pale and trembling across the field and kneel to lift his head while he lay helpless on the ground; but he pretended disappointment now, seeking to draw her out. “I’m very sorry,” he said, watching her closely; “I fancied you were anxious on my account. I presume it was conceited of me to have such a thought.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Doubtless my conduct was such that it gave you cause to think so,” she nodded, perfectly at ease. “Your conduct—and your words,” he returned. She remembered with some dismay that she had been greatly excited as she lifted his head and knelt on the ground. She could not recall the words she had uttered at the time, but she knew she had called him “Dick,” and she entreated the doctor to tell her he was not badly hurt. Still June retained her self-possession, although she did not repress an added bit of color that again rose to her cheeks. “I believe you were shamming, sir!” she asserted, severely. “You seemed almost unconscious, yet you pretend that you heard what I said. I think you dreamed that you heard it.” “Well, it was a very pleasant dream, and it quite repaid me for the jar I received in that little clash.” She could not resist his subtle compliment, and, in spite of her self-control, she felt her pulse thrill a little. Although a girl of sixteen and usually most reserved, she was open to flattery in its finest form, as most girls are. Dick, however, was no flatterer, and he spoke what he felt to be the simple truth and nothing more. It is possible that his sincerity impressed her. “My locket——” she began. “Oh, I hope you are not going to command me to return it to you again!” he exclaimed. “No.” “I am thankful for that. I gave it up once, thinking you would be generous enough to hear what I had to say; but you refused to see me or to permit me to explain——” “Which was very unjust of me,” she frankly admitted. “I was sorry when it was too late, but you did not come again.” “Because I did not care to receive another snub.” “Will you pardon me?” “Surely I will, now that I have the locket again. But I do not wish you to believe that I ever dropped that locket intentionally with the desire of having it become known that you had given it to me. I did not think you could believe such a thing of me.” There was reproach in Dick’s words, and she felt it. “My brother made it seem that you did,” she hastened to say; “and—and—another would not deny it.” “Another?” exclaimed Dick. “I know who it was! It was Hal Darrell!” “I have not said so.” “But you cannot say it was not Darrell?” “I will not say it wasn’t or that it was.”