Pierson grew serious at once. "Splendid girl, isn't she?" She happened to be the first he had known at all well who hadn't agreed with him in everything he said, hadn't shown the greatest anxiety to please him and hadn't practically thrown herself at his head. His combination of riches, good looks, an easy-going disposition and cleverness had so agitated those who had interested him theretofore that they had overreached themselves. Besides, his mother had been subtly watchful. "Indeed, yes," assented Scarborough, heartily but not with enthusiasm--he always thought of Olivia as Pauline's cousin. The four had arranged to go together to Indian Rock on the following Sunday. When the day came Olivia was not well; Pierson went to a poker game at his fraternity house; Pauline and Scarborough walked alone. As she went through the woods beside him she was thinking so intensely that she could not talk. But he was not disturbed by her silence--was it not enough to be near her, alone with her, free to look at her, so graceful and beautiful, so tasteful in dress, in every outward way what he thought a woman ought to be? Presently she roused herself and began a remark that was obviously mere politeness. He interrupted her. "Don't mind me. Go on with your thinking--unless it's something you can say." She gave him a quizzical, baffling smile. "How it would startle you if I did!" she said. "But--I shan't. And"--she frowned impatiently--"there's no use in thinking about it. It's all in the future." "And one can't control the future." "Yes, indeed--one can," she protested. "I wish you'd tell me how. Are you sure you don't mean you could so arrange matters that the future would control you? Anybody can SURRENDER to the future and give it hostages. But that's not controlling, is it?" "Certainly it is--if you give the hostages in exchange for what you want." And she looked triumphant. "But how do you know what you'll want in the future? The most I can say is that I know a few things I shan't want." "I shouldn't like to be of that disposition," she said. "But I'm afraid you are, whether you like it or not." Scarborough was half-serious, half in jest. "Are you the same person you were a month ago?" Pauline glanced away. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean in thought--in feeling." "Yes--and no," she replied presently, when she had recovered from the shock of his chance knock at the very door of her secret. "My coming here has made a sort of revolution in me already. I believe I've a more--more grown-up way of looking at things. And I've been getting into the habit of thinking--and--and acting--for myself." "That's a dangerous habit to form--in a hurry," said Scarborough. "One oughtn't to try to swim a wide river just after he's had his first lesson in swimming." Pauline, for no apparent reason, flushed crimson and gave him a nervous look--it almost seemed a look of fright.