nice serious conversation--all about Hilary!"

"She is apt, I conceded, "to touch on Hilary. But she is very
picturesque."

"Oh, yes, she's handsome," said Dolly.

There was a pause. Then Dolly said, "Well?"

"Well?" said I in return.

"It is goodbye?" asked Dolly, drawing down the corners of her
mouth.

"It comes to this," I remarked. "Supposing I forgive you--"

"As if it was my fault?"

"And risk Mrs. Hilary's wrath--did you speak?"

"No; I laughed, Mr. Carter."

"What shall I get out of it?"

The sun was shining brightly; it shone on Dolly; she had raised
her parasol, but she blinked a little beneath it. She was
smiling slightly still, and the dimple stuck to its post--like a
sentinel, ready to rouse the rest from their brief repose. Dolly
lay back in the victoria, nestling luxuriously against the soft
cushions. She turned her eyes for a moment on me.