"I certainly think you are making a mistake, Miss Davies," bantered young Kennilworth. "For a long run, of course, Mr. Keets might be better, but for a short run I am almost sure that you would have been jollier in the brown bungalow with me." "Time will tell," dimpled the May Girl. "Then I really may consider us--formally engaged?" smiled George Keets, still bending low over her hand. He was really rather amused, I think--and quite as much embarrassed as he was amused. "No, not exactly formally," dimpled the May Girl. "But until breakfast time to-morrow morning." "Until breakfast time to-morrow morning," hooted young Kennilworth. "That's the deuce of a funny time-limit to put on an engagement . . . It's like asking a person to go skating when there isn't any ice!. . ." "Is it?" puzzled the May Girl. "What the deuce do you expect Keets to get out of it?" quizzed young Kennilworth. In an instant the May Girl was all smiles again. "He'll get mentioned in my prayers," she said. "'Please bless Mr. Keets, my fiancé-till-to-morrow-morning.'" "That's certainly--something," conceded George Keets. "It isn't enough,"--protested Kennilworth. The May Girl stared round appealingly at her interlocutors. "But the time is so awfully short," she said, "and I did want to get engaged to as many boys as possible in the week I was here." "What--what!" I babbled. "Yes, for very special reasons," said the May Girl, "I _would_ like to get engaged to as many----" With a strut like the strut of a young ban tam rooster, Rollins pushed his way suddenly into the limelight. "If it will be the slightest accommodation to you," he affirmed, "you may consider your self engaged to me to-morrow!" Disconcerted as she was, the May Girl swallowed the bitter, unexpected dose with infinitely less grimace than one would have expected. She even smiled a little. "Very well, Mr. Rollins," she said, "I will be engaged to you--to-morrow." Young Kennilworth's dismay exploded in a single exclamation. "Well--you--certainly are an extraordinary young person!" "Yes, I know," deprecated the May Girl. "It's because I'm so tall, I suppose----" Before the unallayed breathlessness of my expression she wilted like a worried flower. "Yes, of course, I know, Mrs. Delville," she acknowledged, "that mock marriages aren't considered very good taste . . . But a mock engagement?" she wheedled. "If it's conducted, oh, very--very--very properly?" Her eyes were wide with pleading. "Oh, of course," I suggested, "if it's conducted very--_very_--_very_ properly!" Across the May Girl's lovely pink and white cheeks the dark lashes fringed down. "There--will--be--no--kissing, affirmed the May Girl. "Oh, Shucks!" protested young Kennilworth. "Now you've spoiled everything." Out of the corner of one eye I saw Rollins nudge Paul Brenswick. It was not a facetious nudge, but one quite markedly earnest. The whole expression indeed on Rollins's face was an expression of acute determination.