"Dared! I didn't know that was your failing. I don't believe you even thought of it." "Nevertheless, the idea occurred to me, and terrified me," said Austen. "Why?" she asked, turning upon him suddenly. "Why did it terrify you?" "I should have been presuming upon an accidental acquaintance, which I had no means of knowing you wished to continue," he replied, staring at his horse's head. "And I?" Victoria asked. "Presumption multiplies tenfold in a woman, doesn't it?" "A woman confers," said Austen. She smiled, but with a light in her eyes. This simple sentence seemed to reveal yet more of an inner man different from some of those with whom her life had been cast. It was an American point of view--this choosing to believe that the woman conferred. After offering herself as his passenger Victoria, too, had had a moment of terror: the action had been the result of an impulse which she did not care to attempt to define. She changed the subject. "You have been winning laurels since I saw you last summer," she said. "I hear incidentally you have made our friend Zeb Meader a rich man." "As riches go, in the town of Mercer," Austen laughed. "As for my laurels, they have not yet begun to chafe." Here was a topic he would have avoided, and yet he was curious to discover what her attitude would be. He had antagonized her father, and the fact that he was the son of Hilary Vane had given his antagonism prominence. "I am glad you did it for Zeb." "I should have done it for anybody--much as I like Zeb," he replied briefly. She glanced at him. "It was--courageous of you," she said. "I have never looked upon it in that light," he answered. "May I ask you how you heard of it?" She coloured, but faced the question. "I heard it from my father, at first, and I took an interest--on Zeb Meader's account," she added hastily. Austen was silent. "Of course," she continued, "I felt a little like boasting of an 'accidental acquaintance' with the man who saved Zeb Meader's life." Austen laughed. Then he drew Pepper down to a walk, and turned to her. "The power of making it more than an accidental acquaintance lies with you," he said quietly. "I have always had an idea that aggression was a man's prerogative," Victoria answered lightly. "And seeing that you have not appeared at Fairview for something over a year, I can only conclude that you do not choose to exercise it in this case." Austen was in a cruel quandary. "I did wish to come," he answered simply, "but--the fact that I have had a disagreement with your father has--made it difficult." "Nonsense" exclaimed Victoria; "just because you have won a suit against his railroad. You don't know my father, Mr. Vane. He isn't the kind of man with whom that would make any difference. You ought to talk it over with him. He thinks you were foolish to take Zeb Meader's side." "And you?" Austen demanded quickly.