Contrary to Elsie's expectations, it was decided by the elders of the party that all should remain to tea. As the others returned to the drawing-room on leaving the table, she stole out upon the moonlighted veranda. Gazing wistfully down the avenue, was she thinking of one probably even then on his way to the Oaks--thinking of him and his disappointment at not finding her here? "It's a nice night, this," remarked Arthur's voice at her side, "I say, Elsie, suppose we bury the hatchet, you and I." "I never had any enmity towards you, Arthur," she answered, still gazing straight before her. "Well, it's odd if you hadn't; I gave you cause enough, as you did me by your niggardly refusal to lend me a small sum, on occasions when I was hard up. But I'm willing to let by-gones be by-gones, if you are." "Certainly; I should be glad to forget all that has been unpleasant in the past." "You have improved wonderfully since I saw you last: you were a pretty girl then, but now you are without exception the most superbly beautiful, graceful, accomplished, and intelligent woman I ever saw." "I do not like flattery, Arthur," she answered, turning coldly away. "Pooh! the truth's never flattery; I declare if we were not so nearly related, I'd marry you myself." "You forget," she said, half scornfully, "that it takes two to make a bargain; three in this case; and two of us would never consent." "Nonsense! I'd soon manage it by clever courting. A man can always get the woman he wants if he's only sufficiently determined." "In that you are mistaken. But why broach so disagreeable a subject, since we are so nearly related that the very thought seems almost a sin and a crime?" "And so you're going to throw yourself away on old Travilla?" Elsie faced him with flashing eyes. "No; it will be no throwing away of myself, nor will I allow him to be spoken of in such disrespectful terms, in my presence." "Humph!" laughed Arthur. "Well, I've found out how to make you angry, at all events. And I'm free to confess I don't like Travilla, or forgive him all old scores." Elsie scarcely seemed to hear. A horse was coming at a quiet canter up the avenue. Both the steed and his rider wore a familiar aspect, and the young girl's heart gave a joyous bound as the latter dismounted, throwing the reins to a servant, and came up the steps into the veranda. She glided towards him; there was an earnest, tender clasping of hands, a word or two of cordial greeting, and they passed into the house and entered the drawing room. "Humph! not much sentiment there; act towards each other pretty much as they always have," said Arthur to himself, taking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it with a match. "I wonder now what's the attraction to her for an old codger like that," he added watching the smoke as it curled lazily up from the end of his Havana.