"I suppose," said Mrs. Wilbur, "if the steed were going to be stolen, it would have happened before this. The stable door has been open for weeks." "Quite so," said Mrs. Lowell, laughing. "It is so light, Bert and I are going to walk up to the Inn." "I am going to send the car back for Diana in one hour," declared Mrs. Wilbur. Her daughter's theories were all very well, but this was a distractingly beautiful night and the echoes of that marvelous voice were even yet thrilling her own nerves. Léonie was sitting at the front of the car with Bill Lindsay, and Mrs. Wilbur mounted into the back seat with Miss Burridge. "I suppose Miss Veronica will return with my daughter," she said. "I only hope so," returned Miss Burridge resignedly. "Mr. Kelly has promised to see to her." "I don't feel like dancing," said Diana, as her partner guided her through the narrow spaces. "No one would suspect it," he replied. "I was just thinking that this night was to be superlative in all directions." "But how can one endure this silly music when '_Manon! Manon!_' is echoing through the heart!" Philip did not reply, nor did he release her until the gay strumming at the piano ceased. Then they went out on the piazza. The laughing, chattering young people were streaming out into the air, and occupying every available seat. The field surrounding the hall was light as day. "Let us go down to the rocks," said Philip. "I mustn't because my mother is going to send the car back for me in one hour. You've no idea how firmly my mother can say 'one hour' and mean it." "There should be no rules on a night like this," Philip regarded his companion, pale in the moonlight as her pale, filmy garments. "I feel like quoting a choice spirit of my childhood days. He was trying to get me to go on a tear of some kind with him, and I told him my mother would worry. He said, 'Oh, come on. Scoldings don't hurt, whippings don't last long, and she da'sn't kill you.'" Diana smiled. "Now that she is here, she likes to tuck me in," she said. "I would she had waited until after the moon. Well, let us go to the near rocks. I will keep watch of the time." They went down the populous steps. "Oh, Mr. Barrison!" exclaimed a woman upon whom he nearly trod. "What ecstasy you have given us!" It was Miss Emerson. She was cooling off from a dance with Mr. Pratt, and was in high feather, because neither he nor Mr. Evans knew another woman present, save Veronica, and her acquaintance, though not wide, seemed intensive. "Yes, that was corking," said Mr. Evans. "We sure do thank you. Say, folks, I'm tired. I'm going to trot along." "Back to the Inn?" asked Philip with interest. "Yes. Anything I can do for you?" "If you will be so kind. Mrs. Wilbur has just gone. Will you be kind enough to tell her not to worry if her daughter is a little later than she expected? Tell her you left her in good hands and we are going to walk up after a while." "Certainly. Be glad to," replied Evans.