turned to the girl. He had a wistful smile for her.

"I'm sorry, little Clare," he said, softly. She slipped her hands under
the belt of his corduroy jacket and gazed up at him tearfully.

"He had no right to say that I--that I--oh, he doesn't understand
friendship!" she cried.

"No, and we'll not try to explain--not now! But I have some serious
matters to talk over with my grandfather. Ride home, dear; I'll see you
before I go back to the woods again."

"And you _are_ going back to the woods? You are not going to let them
send you away where you'll forget your best friends?"

"I never shall forget my friends. And I can't believe that you heard
right, little girl. My grandfather will not put me in politics. Don't
worry. I'll straighten it all out before I leave."

He lifted her to her horse and sent her away with a pat. She went
unprotesting, with a trustful smile. The hounds raced wildly after her.

"Woof!" remarked the Hon. Luke Presson to himself, "there's a kitten
that's been fed on plenty of raw meat!" And as he always compared all
women with his daughter, reigning beauty of the State capital, he added:
"I'd like to have Madeleine get a glimpse of that. She'd be glad that
it's the style to bring girls up on a cream diet."

He hurried away behind Harlan, who had given him rather curt greeting,
and had followed the Duke around to the front of the house. The old man