I could swear she flushed again. Her voice trembled as she
answered:

"No, not lately."

I caught sight of his face behind her back and I thought I saw a
trace of puzzle--nothing more. He held out his hand.

"Well, so glad to have seen you, Miss Phaeton," said he, "but I
must run on. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Mr. Gay," said she.

And, lifting his hat again, smiling again gayly, he was gone.
For a moment or two I said nothing. Then I remarked:

"So that's your friend Gay, is it? He's not a bad-looking
fellow."

"Yes, that's him," said she, and, as she spoke, she sank back in
her seat for a moment. I did not look at her face. Then she sat
up straight again and took the whip.

"Want to stay any longer?" she asked.

"No," said I.

The little groom sprang away, Rhino and Ready dashed ahead.

"Shall I drop you at the club?" she asked. "I'm goin' home."