Again they were plowing through the sand. The girl sat anxiously on the edge of the seat, her cheeks flaming, her eyes alight. Minot watched her. And suddenly all the happy, sad little memories melted into a golden glow--the glow of being alive--on this lonesome road--with her! Then suddenly he knew! This was the one girl, the girl of all the world, the girl he should love while the memory of her lasted, which would be until the eyes that looked upon her now were dust. A great exultation swept through him-- "What did you mean," he asked, "when you said you were always doing things like this?" "I meant," she answered, "that I'm a silly little fool. Oh, if you could know me well--" and her eyes seemed to question the future--"you'd see for yourself. Never looking ahead to calculate the consequences. It's the old story of fools rushing in--" "You mean of angels rushing in, don't you? I never was good at old saws, but--" "And once more, please--your watch?" "Twenty minutes of one." "Oh, dear--can we"-- A wild whoop from the driver interrupted. "San Marco," he cried, pointing to where red towers rose above the green of the country. "It paid to take a chance with me. I sure did let her out. Where do you want to go, lady?" "The Hotel de la Pax," said the girl, and with a sigh of deep relief, sank back upon the cushions. "And Salvator won," quoted Mr. Minot with a laugh. "How can I ever thank you?" the girl asked. "Don't try," said Minot. "That is--I mean--try, if you will, please." "It meant so very much to me--" "No--you'd better not, after all. It makes me feel guilty. For I did nothing that doesn't come under the head of glorious privilege. A chance to serve you! Why, I'd travel to the ends of the earth for that." "But--it was good of you. You can hardly realize all it meant to me to reach this hotel by one o'clock. Perhaps I ought to tell you--" "It doesn't matter," Minot replied. "That you have reached here is my reward." His cheeks burned; his heart sang. Here was the one girl, and he built castles in Spain with lightening strokes. She should be his. She must be. Before him life stretched, glorious, with her at his side-- "I think I will tell you," the girl was saying. "This is to be the most important luncheon of my life because--" "Yes?" smiled Mr. Minot "Because it is the one at which I am going to announce my engagement!" Minot's heart stopped beating. A hundred castles in Spain came tumbling about his ears, and the roar of their falling deafened him. He put out his hand blindly to open the door, for he realized that the car had come to a stop. "Let me help you, please," he said dully. And even as he spoke a horrible possibility swept into his heart and overwhelmed him. "I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, "but would you mind telling me one thing?" "Of course not. But I really must fly--" "The name of--the happy man." "Why--Allan, Lord Harrowby. Thank you so much--and good-by."