They passed Mrs. Carson, "ingeniously and correctly associated," as Miss Hitchcock commented, and little Laura Lindsay flirting with young Polot. Miss Hitchcock quickened her pace, for the polo had already begun. They saw Caspar Porter's little pony fidgeting under its heavy burden. It became unmanageable and careered wildly up and down the field, well out of range of the players. Indeed, most of the ponies seemed inclined to keep their shins out of the melee. Sommers laughed rather ill-naturedly, and Miss Hitchcock frowned. She disliked slovenly playing, and shoddy methods even in polo. When the umpire called time, Parker Hitchcock rode up to where they were standing and shook hands with the young doctor. As he trotted off, his sister said earnestly: "You have done so much for him; we can never thank you." "I don't believe I have done so very much," Sommers replied. He did not like to have her refer to his mission in New York, or to make, woman-wise, a sentimental story out of a nasty little scrape. "I think polo will help him; papa agrees with me now." "Indeed!" Sommers smiled, "What is it that you don't say?" the girl flashed at him resentfully. "Merely, that this is a nice green paddock for a young man to be turned out in--when he has barked his shins. Do you know what happens to the ordinary young man who is--a bit wild?" "Well, let us not go into it. I am afraid of you to-day." "Yes, I am in one of my crude moods to-day, I confess. I had no business to come." "Not at all. This is just the place for you. Nice people, nice day, nice sporty feeling in the air. You need relaxation badly." "I don't think I shall get it exactly here." "Why not?" The girl looked out over the shaven turf, dotted with the white figures of the golfers, at the careering ponies which had begun the new round in the match, up the slope where the club verandas were gay with familiar figures,--and it all seemed very good. The man at her side could see all that and more beyond. He had come within the hour from the din of the city, where the wealth that flowered here was made. And there was a primitive, eternal, unanswerable question harassing his soul. CHAPTER XVI "Shall we walk over to the lake," the girl suggested gently, as if anxious to humor some incomprehensible child. "There is a lovely ravine we can explore, all cool and shady, and this sun is growing oppressive."