She considered gravely. "Why, it's comfortable to know that you'll always have some one to take care of you, some one who's tender and good--too good, perhaps----" Justin was perplexed. She had spoken in the present tense. Was it possible that her fancy was really held by Anthony? Had their wild race in the storm meant nothing to her? To him it had seemed a sort of spiritual mating, with the storm crashing out a brilliant bridal chorus. He leaned forward. "What you're talking of isn't love," he said, almost roughly. "Love doesn't mean being comfortable; it doesn't mean being petted and coddled like a pussy cat, or being looked after like a child. It means what it meant to Romeo when he killed himself for love of Juliet. It means what it meant to Orpheus when he followed Eurydice to the underworld. It means what it will mean to me when I have found the one woman--that I'll work for her, live for her, die for her, and count the future blank if she does not love me in return." "How wonderful!" she whispered after a moment "How wonderful--to be loved--like that----" His heart leaped. Some day he would make it wonderful! But not now. It was too soon to say the things he had to say. "The most wonderful thing right now," he said, "is that you are going to be--my friend." She responded radiantly. "It will be lovely to have a--big brother." "It will be lovelier to have--a little sister." He held out his hand to her, and she took it, laughing lightly. And just then the smiling groom came to say that the gentleman's car was at the door. The rain had stopped, but storm signals still showed in the south where the heavy clouds hung over the horizon. Overhead the sun shone, making kaleidoscope effects of the spring flowers in the checkered beds. Against the gray wall of the terraced garden the peach trees had been trained in foreign fashion and were full of rosy bloom. Bettina, coming out of the darkened stable, opened her eyes wide. "What a different world it seems," she said, "from the one we left in the storm." Justin helped her into the car. "We'll reach home before the next storm breaks," he remarked, as he took his seat beside her, "but there's trouble ahead." To him the words held no sinister meaning, nor to Bettina. In their hearts was no fear of the future, nor of the storms which might some day wreck their happiness. CHAPTER XI THE WHITE MAIDEN Bettina, lonely in her tower, had often looked across enviously to the brilliantly lighted yacht club on the nights of the weekly dances. And now she was going to a yacht club dance with Justin in attendance, and with Sophie for chaperon; with Sara and Doris and Sara's brother Duke to be added to the party when they reached the club-house pier. The question of Bettina's gown had been a puzzling one. Sophie had brought out everything of her own, and Diana, white-faced after a sleepless night, had tried to put her mind on the matter.