“A _thief_!--as if I’d chance bein’ let out by you, sir, for the sake of a hunderd dollars! I knowed that minute how I’d been mistaken in her--terrible. She ain’t no thoroughbred, sir. There’s Miss Townsend--fifteen hands and ev’ry inch a lady--would _she_ a-done me like that? This is bold talk, and you’ll feel like kickin’ me from here to Brampton. But I’m thinkin’ too much of you to pick words--I’m thinkin’ so much of you I’d hate to see you marry her. And, now, I’ve got you down on me, sir. She’ll tell you I lied for spite because I didn’t get the money. It ain’t spite--nothin’ like it, sir. But you won’t believe me against her--I know that. And it means I’ll have to leave Hillcrest. Well, I’ll go, sir,--I’ll go. I couldn’t work for her, anyhow, you see, sir. So--good--good-bye, sir.” * * * * * It was a week later before Sue heard the story of Larry and the seven one-hundred-dollar bills. Then Phil told it to her--one afternoon when he came to join her in a horseback ride. After he had told it (they were in the library at Arbor Lodge), he leaned back in his chair, his crop across his knees, and studied her face. Sue looked troubled. “Oh, I think there must be some dreadful mistake about the whole thing,” she said. “I don’t mean that Larry isn’t honest--I think he is. He’s got a nice face, and I simply couldn’t lose faith in a red-headed person.” Phil smiled. “And you simply couldn’t say anything against anybody,” said he; “I know that. But this involves theft, Sue.” Sue looked more troubled than ever. “We’ll all steal if we’re sufficiently tempted,” she declared. “Isn’t that so? You or I wouldn’t steal money. That’s because we don’t need it.” “Larry was entitled to the reward; but he didn’t have the slightest idea of accepting one cent. What he did expect was--Gad! what a backhander!” “But, Phil,” she said, “you mustn’t let the word of a groom make any difference between you and Genevieve.” “I won’t.” “Genevieve wouldn’t be so tricky, Phil.” Phil said nothing. “She must have thought Larry guilty if she was so severe with him,” persisted Sue. “She’s so just. And generosity itself.” Phil looked at his boots. “My servants adore her.” Phil examined the end of his crop. “Give her a chance to explain, Phil, at the Carltons’ to-night.” “I’m not going. Are you?” “No. I’ve planned an early canter for to-morrow.” He leaned forward. “Am I included?” he asked. She regarded him critically, and reflected that he looked pale. “Would you like to go--this afternoon and to-morrow, too?” “I’d like to go,” he declared. “There’s Wheaton Hill, too; we haven’t been there yet. And those collies of Bob’s--if we don’t watch out they’ll be grown dogs before we see ’em.” She hesitated a little. Then, “I wouldn’t care to have Genevieve think,” she began, “that I’d stayed away from the Carltons’, and that you stayed away, too, and that we----” “May I come?” he persisted, and rose.