of good." And while Mrs. Gaynor stared after her she closed the door
softly and went tiptoeing downstairs and out into the brightening dawn,
where Mark King awaited her with the horses.

From behind a window-curtain Gloria's mother watched the girl tripping
away through the meadow to the stable, set back among the trees. King
was leading the saddled horses to meet her; Gloria gave him her
gauntleted hand in a greeting the degree of friendliness of which was
gauged by the clever eyes at the window; friendliness already arrived at
a stage of intimacy. King lifted Gloria into her saddle; Gloria's little
laugh had in it a flutter of excitement as her cavalier's strength took
her by delighted surprise and off her feet. They rode away through the
thinning shadows. Mrs. Gaynor, despite the earliness of the hour, went
straight to her husband, awoke him mercilessly, and told him everything.

"Oh," he said when she had done and he had turned over for another hour
or so of sleep, "that's all right. Mark told me about it last night."

"And you didn't say a word to me!"

"Forgot," said Ben. "But don't worry. Mark'll take care of her."

She left him to his innocent slumbers and began dressing. Already she
was busied with planning just what to say and how to say it; Gloria
knew, she thought with some complacency, that her mother could be
depended upon in any situation demanding the delicate touch. She would
be about, cool and smiling, when the first guest appeared; it would be
supposed that she and Gloria and Mr. King had been quite a merry trio as
the morning adventure was being arranged. That first guest stirring
would be Mr. Gratton on hand to pounce on Gloria and get her out of the