Neither Blarney nor the bear was in sight, and as I had hung on to my rifle half unconsciously I proposed going back to look for the dog, but they insisted on accompanying me, and Miss Solander showed her own gun in its carbine holster with the flap buttoned. I tell you it took nerve for a girl on a runaway horse to do that bit of work. Well, we went cautiously back, Van Zandt holding a strap fastened to the mare's bridle, and I on ahead. Nothing in sight until we got out of the wood and had made a slight turn. Then we saw Blarney, very ragged and bloody, but with an air of proud ownership, sniffing around the dead body of the bear. We had some trouble in bringing up the horses, but managed it finally. Everyone seemed to feel after that that Van Zandt would win and wear the violet. Even Mrs. Northrup was preparing to bow gracefully to the inevitable, when Ethel came on the scene in the rôle of “enfante terrible” and spoke her little piece. It was a lovely summer afternoon. The next day, Monday, was Miss Viola's twenty-first birthday; her father was to arrive by the evening boat, and several of the young men had planned rowing and sailing races in her honor. Mr. and Mrs. Northrup, Miss Belmont, Hinton and I were chatting in a little summer house just by the edge of the lake, and a few feet away, Viola, Harry and Ethel were skipping flat stones over the water. In a pause in our talk, which had been of Byron, just after someone had quoted: She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all, We were all looking at the trio outside and speculating probably upon the future of two of them, when we saw Ethel seize Miss Solander's hand, look up at her adoringly, and heard her say, in her childish pipes: “You're so pretty! Why does mamma called you 'the colored lady?' You're not a nigger, are you?” The girl flushed painfully, but stooped, kissed the child and, looking straight at Mrs. Northrup, said very gently: “No, dear; and if mamma knew me better she would not think I was colored.” Then she turned, bowed slightly and walked rapidly up the beach. Nell burst into tears, Van Zandt muttered something that didn't sound like a prayer and tore after his lady love. Northrup was so startled and angry that, instead of comforting his wife, he gave her a little shake and exploded with: “It's too ----- ---------- bad! A nice mess you and the brat have made of things!” Then, as the ludicrous side of the affair appealed to his fun-loving nature: “To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the crust of a nice, re: “To save time, I'll spank Ethel while you roll out the crust of a nice, big humble pie.”