She hastened to meet him, holding out both her hands.
"Jack, this is good of you!" she cried. "It's just your generous
way--you couldn't possibly have forgiven me more gracefully. To
think that you, of all people, should be the mysterious airman of
Westchester who has set every one talking and wondering! Why, it was
the pleasantest surprise in life to see you get down from that machine
after such a wonderful flight. And my father has been here to-day,
also. Two such converts in one afternoon is a coincidence that seems
too good to be true."
The young Monsieur Power was regarding her, I noticed, with a sort of
curious reserve.
"Maybe there's something in that," he said. "You mustn't get the idea
that I've altered my ground in the least, Ella."
"But you are flying yourself, now!"
"Certainly, but that doesn't mean that I approve of it as an amusement
for you."
"When did you begin?"
"Last month, when I bought the machine. Since then I've been
practicing around home."
The girl started from him in amazement.
"Last month! Why, don't you know you might have killed yourself,
cutting capers on a day like this?"
"Precisely what I have allowed myself to point out to monsieur," I
interposed. "He attempted feats full of danger even for the expert."
"Well, I guess that's all right," he responded shortly. "A man's life
wasn't given to him to nurse. Besides, flying is a great relief after
a week in the city."
I turned aside, then, to superintend the disposal of the aeroplanes in
their sheds, as it had become evident that a gale was in prospect.
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