She assented gaily and they set off, walking close together and chattering like a couple of schoolgirls on a holiday. Caleb felt oddly young and buoyant. The girl had ever the power of imparting to him, when they were alone together, something of her own youth and gaiety. To-day, the spell worked with double force, because of last night’s scene. It would have needed a far cleverer onlooker than Conover to detect any artificiality in Desirée’s high spirits. She bullied him, petted him, cajoled and instructed him by turns as was her wont, until they had entered the Arareek grounds. Then of a sudden she fell silent. The deep clubhouse veranda was filled with knots of men and women. Among the idling groups, the girl had recognized Letty Standish and Caine. Jack Hawarden, who was sitting with the couple, ran down the steps to welcome the newcomers. “There are two extra chairs at our table,” he said eagerly, “And I believe they’re the only two left on the whole veranda. I wondered why no one took them. Now I see it was providential.” Caleb hesitated, glancing in doubt at Desirée. The girl, a little to his surprise, assented with perfect willingness to Jack’s suggestion, and led the way between several bevies of frankly admiring men and openly curious women, toward the table where Caine and Letty were seated. Miss Standish’s cheeks were flushed as she noted their approach. Nor did her gentle face wear quite its best expression. But Caine, masculinely obtuse, was very evidently glad to see them. He signalled a waiter as Caleb and Desirée seated themselves. “When Providence ordained hot days like this,” said Caine oracularly, “He mercifully devised seltzer lemonades to go with them. Would you rather have a Scotch-and-soda, Conover?” “No thanks,” demurred the Fighter. “No use in spoilin’ two perfec’ly good things like booze an’ water by fizzin’ ’em up together.” “That is so,” agreed Caine tritely, “Mixing whiskey with water is like merging love into matrimony. It--” Letty giggled appreciation. She had a marvellous ear for humor, and could almost always tell by a speaker’s tone when he had said anything funny. It was a natural gift many girls envied her. In the midst of the laugh she remembered Desirée’s presence and fell back on her defenses of gentle reserve. Caine was hailed from another table and went across to reply to some question. Jack, too, was for the moment, leaning over to speak with someone on the lawn below. Caleb, left alone between Desirée and Letty, racked his brain for something to say. For once, Desirée did not help him. She was gazing out with dreamy joy at the beautiful grounds; her eyes resting longest on the stately avenue of trees that wound up to the house. Thus it devolved upon Letty to save the conversational ship from utter wreck. “I hardly thought to see you here, Miss Shevlin,” she observed with a graciousness that did not however leave the second personal pronoun quite unaccented.