"Bother, indeed! I just love him," cried Patty. "He's such a lovable animal. We have such good times on our morning rides. We had trouble last week, though. A white bulldog sprang at him. Jove was so tired that he would have been whipped had I not dismounted and beaten the white dog off. Oh, Jove was perfectly willing to contest the right of way. And when it was all over, who should come along but Mr. McQuade, the politician. It was his dog. And he hadn't even the grace to make an apology for his dog's ill manners." "May I not ride with you to-morrow morning?" he asked. He had intended to leave Herculaneum at noon; but there were many later trains. "That will be delightful! I know so many beautiful roads; and we can lunch at the Country Club. And Jove can go along, too." "Where is the traitor?" "He is sound asleep on the veranda rugs." "Well, it's long past his bedtime. I must be going." "Some time I hope you will come just to call on me." "I shall not need any urging." They followed him to the door, and good nights were said. "Oh, Patty, he has lifted so much doubt!" said the mother, as the two returned to the library. "He has nothing but praise for Miss Challoner. It is quite possible that John will be happy." "It is not only possible, mother darling, but probable. For my part, I think her the most charming, most fascinating woman I ever met. And she told me she rides. What jolly times we'll have together, when John settles down in the new house!" "The new house!" repeated the mother, biting her lips. "How the word hurts! Patty, why could they not come here? We'll be so lonely. Yet, it is the law of Heaven that a man and his wife must live by and for themselves." Warrington walked home, lightened in spirit. He swung his cane, gave Jove a dozen love-taps and whistled operatic airs. What a charming young creature it was, to be sure! The brain of a woman and the heart of a child. And he had forgotten all about her. Now, of course, his recollection became clear. He remembered a mite of a girl in short frocks, wonder-eyes, and candy-smudged lips. How they grew, these youngsters! He went into the house, still whistling. Jove ran out into the kitchen to see if by some possible miracle there was another piece of steak in his grub-pan. A dog's eyes are always close to his stomach. Warrington, finding that everybody had gone to bed, turned out the lights and went up stairs. He knocked on the door of his aunt's bedroom. "Is that you, Richard?" "Yes. May I come in?" "Certainly." He entered quietly. The moonlight, pouring in through the window, lay blue-white on the counterpane and the beloved old face. "What is it?" she asked. He sat down on the edge of the bed and patted her hands. "Aunty, old lady, I'm through thinking. I'm going to come home just as soon as I can fix up things in New York."