Genevieve did not answer. She was talking to a tall man with a face the approximate shade of Larry’s. “May I present Mr. Valentine?” she asked presently, with some affectation, “--late of the English Army, you know.” Sue bowed. “Churmed,” observed Mr. Valentine, in what was to Sue an entirely new British mode of pronunciation. At the end of the first period Phil came over to the wagon a second time and chatted with Genevieve, who was looking particularly handsome in a mauve linen and a tailored hat--so handsome that Sue, dressed in less striking colours, seemed white and tired in comparison. Again a group was gathered at Genevieve’s side of the wagon, but Sue, more quiet than was her wont, had no smiles for them. She looked away between the paper goal-posts that, painted in wide cream-and-blue bands, loomed up near by like giant sticks of candy. “This afternoon he’ll motor”--it was Mr. St. Ives who was talking; he was standing beside Phil. “_To-morrow_ afternoon he’ll motor. The next afternoon he’ll go out in his car.” Then he made a wry face and reached over the back of the seat to seize Sue’s fingers and squeeze them gratefully under a pretext of shaking hands. “Will you go this afternoon, Miss Unger?” asked Phil. “My ten minutes are nearly up, aren’t they, Sue?” “Sue’s only got her locket,” said Miss Unger with a lazy smile. “Well, what’s the time by your locket, Sue?” demanded Mr. St. Ives, and reached for it. Sue slipped the locket inside her shirtwaist. “Say yes, Miss Unger,” urged Phil. “I’m fearfully sorry--I really can’t go this afternoon.” Genevieve gave a quick glance past Phil to the man behind him--Valentine. “I have an engagement.” At that, Phil fell back, his face suddenly grave, lifted a hand in a gay salute and strode away. But throughout the remainder of the game he played harder than ever, and with such coolness, resource and accuracy that there was frequent hand-clapping from the line of vehicles, and even Hadbury parasols were waved from the ladies’ stand; while to one side, where the extra ponies waited, groom leaned to groom, commenting excitedly. But when the match was done, with the Brampton team victors, he disappeared, and Sue did not see him again. She got away as soon as she could manage it, and turned the bays homeward at top speed. “Don’t you think Mr. Valentine handsome?” asked Genevieve, as they rolled along. “Soldierly, I think.” “Bob doesn’t believe the man has ever been in the army,” said Sue. “And he says Mr. Valentine owes everyone in Brampton.” Genevieve opened her eyes. “Why, Sue!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never heard you repeat things against anyone before. Mr. Valentine has plenty of money. And shopkeepers always gossip to curry favor with servants.” “And Bob says he gambles,” persisted Sue. “I like you too well to see him claim any of your attention.” “Don’t all men gamble?” demanded Genevieve. “Not professionally--that’s common.”