“There may be hope. If she is not irrevocably engaged the fancy may pass. I think I will go and see Jane and make tactful inquiries.” “I wish you would,” said William. “And, I say, you haven’t any stuff that’ll take strawberry-juice off a fellow’s trousers, have you?” * * * * * My interview with Jane that evening served only to confirm the bad news. Yes, she was definitely engaged to the man Spelvin. In a burst of girlish confidence she told me some of the details of the affair. “The moon was shining and a soft breeze played in the trees,” she said. “And suddenly he took me in his arms, gazed deep into my eyes, and cried, ‘I love you! I worship you! I adore you! You are the tree on which the fruit of my life hangs; my mate; my woman; predestined to me since the first star shone up in yonder sky!’” “Nothing,” I agreed, “could be fairer than that. And then?” I said, thinking how different it all must have been from William Bates’s miserable, limping proposal. “Then we fixed it up that we would get married in September.” “You are sure you are doing wisely?” I ventured. Her eyes opened. “Why do you say that?” “Well, you know, whatever his other merits--and no doubt they are numerous--Rodney Spelvin does _not_ play golf.” “No, but he’s very broad-minded about it.” I shuddered. Women say these things so lightly. “Broad-minded?” “Yes. He has no objection to my going on playing. He says he likes my pretty enthusiasms.” There seemed nothing more to say on that subject. “Well,” I said, “I am sure I wish you every happiness. I had hoped, of course--but never mind that.” “What?” “I had hoped, as you insist on my saying it, that you and William Bates--” A shadow passed over her face. Her eyes grew sad. “Poor William! I’m awfully sorry about that. He’s a dear.” “A splendid fellow,” I agreed. “He has been so wonderful about the whole thing. So many men would have gone off and shot grizzly bears or something. But William just said ‘Right-o!’ in a quiet voice, and he’s going to caddy for me at Mossy Heath next week.” “There is good stuff in the boy.” “Yes.” She sighed. “If it wasn’t for Rodney--Oh, well!” I thought it would be tactful to change the subject. “So you have decided to go to Mossy Heath again?” “Yes. And I’m really going to qualify this year.” * * * * *