"
"I promise you Sunday afternoon or the first clear day," she
exclaimed, eagerly.
"Very well," he replied, brightening. "Remember I shall be a Shylock
with this bond." But he was irritated, nevertheless, and went out on
the piazza to try the soothing influence of a cigar.
The skies cleared rapidly. So did his brow; and before long he
muttered: "I'll console myself by another gallop with Madge. There
goes my inamorata, smiling upon another fellow. How long is this going
to last? Not all summer, by Jupiter! Her father must not insist on her
playing that game too long, even though she does play it so well."
Madge was sitting in her room in dreary apathy and spiritless reaction
from the strain of the morning, when she was aroused by a knock on her
door. "Madge," called a voice that sent the blood to her face, "what
say you to another ride? I know the roads are muddy, but--"
"But I'll go with you," she cried. "Why use adversatives in the same
breath with 'ride'? The mud's nothing. What won't rub off can stay on.
How soon shall I be ready?"
"That's a good live girl. In half an hour."
When they were a mile or two away Madge asked, as if with sudden
compunction, "Graydon, are you sure you were disengaged?"
He laughed outright.
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