“Perhaps we are led and our loves are fated, And our steps are counted one by one; Perhaps we shall meet and our souls be mated, After the burnt-out sun.” “I like that. Who did you say wrote it?” The immobile butler, as once before, presented a card for her inspection. Ridgway, with recollections of the previous occasion, ventured to murmur again: “The fairy prince.” Virginia blushed to her hair, and this time did not offer the card for his disapproval. “Shall I congratulate him?” he wanted to know. The imperious blood came to her cheeks on the instant. The sudden storm in her eyes warned him better than words. “I’ll be good,” he murmured, as Lyndon Hobart came into the room. His goodness took the form of a speedy departure. She followed him to the door for a parting fling at him. “In your automobile you may reach a telegraph-office in about five minutes. With luck you may be engaged inside of an hour.” “You have the advantage of me by fifty-five minutes,” he flung back. “You ought to thank me on your knees for having saved you a wretched scene this afternoon,” was the best she could say to cover her discomfiture. “I do. I do. My thanks are taking the form of leaving you with the prince.” “That’s very crude, sir—and I’m not sure it isn’t impertinent.” Miss Balfour was blushing when she returned to Hobart. He mistook the reason, and she could not very well explain that her blushes were due to the last wordless retort of the retiring “old love,” whose hand had gone up in a ridiculous bless-you-my-children attitude just before he left her. Their conversation started stiffly. He had come, he explained, to say good-by. He was leaving the State to go to Washington prior to the opening of the session. This gave her a chance to congratulate him upon his election. “I haven’t had an opportunity before. You’ve been so busy, of course, preparing to save the country, that your time must have been very fully occupied.” He did not show his surprise at this interpretation of the fact that he had quietly desisted from his attentions to her, but accepted it as the correct explanation, since she had chosen to offer it. Miss Balfour expressed regret that he was going, though she did not suppose she would see any less of him than she had during the past two months. He did not take advantage of her little flings to make the talk less formal, and Virginia, provoked at his aloofness, offered no more chances. Things went very badly, indeed, for ten minutes, at the end of which time Hobart rose to go. Virginia was miserably aware of being wretched despite the cool hauteur of her seeming indifference. But he was too good a sportsman to go without letting her know he held no grudge. “I hope you will be very happy with Mr. Ridgway. Believe me, there is nobody whose happiness I would so rejoice at as yours.”