He was, or rather had been, dressed in white, with blue cravat, and wore a straw hat covered with fresh white muslin in the Oriental style. He was now bedaubed like Salius in the Virgilian foot-race. It was quite certain that his afternoon projects were at an end. He was an “object.” “After all,” continued the good-natured Tootler, “you have the worst of it and I won’t abuse you. Here comes Waddy with your horse--he seems all right. Don’t you remember Waddy? Ira, this is Horace Belden. He used to be one of us--old friends.” Waddy was holding the horse with his right hand; he held out the other with an apology. “I’m glad to see you again and very sorry that we were the unintentional cause of your accident,” he said. Belden took the hand with a bad grace, and stooping down to wipe off some of his stains, was muttering something that may have been a reply, when Cecilia made a little start. Tootler jumped to her head. “Come, Waddy,” he called; “we shall be caught in the shower. Sorry to leave you, Belden, but don’t see that we can do anything. A little rain-water won’t do you any harm.” Belden’s manner was so very ungracious that Waddy’s cordiality, if he felt any, was repressed. It was a case for indulgence, however, and he paused an instant as he was mounting into the buggy. “I’m at the Tremont House, Mr. Belden,” he said, “and shall be glad to see you.” “Tremont House--ah,” replied the other. “Hold your head up, you damn beast!” As the pair drove off, Belden looked after them with a black expression and a curse. “What the hell has that damned Waddy come back for?” he asked of the ambient air. “He’d better keep away from me. I knew him as soon as I saw him from the top of the hill. You infernal brute, why didn’t you go by?” and picking up his whip, Mr. Horace Belden beat his horse villainously. Meantime Cecilia was tossing herself gracefully along, covering ground to make up for delay. “Does Belden owe you any money?” asked Tommy. “I thought there seemed something to pay between you.” “He certainly didn’t seem inclined to pay even common civility,” replied Ira, “but I suppose he was savage at being spilt. It _was_ rather hard, particularly with that gay and gorgeous raiment. He should learn how to drive.” “I think he knew us and meant to go by without notice,” said Tommy shrewdly. “Did you ever quarrel with him before you went away?” “Never any positive quarrel. I had begun to distrust him somewhat; but he aided me so readily in my efforts to be off that I forgot my doubts. We parted good friends. Why do you ask?”