CHAPTER I

WHOLLY GIVEN OVER TO SENTIMENT


The Green Imp, long, low and powerful, carrying besides its two
passengers a motor trunk, a number of bulky parcels, and a full share
of mud, drew to one side of the road. The fifth April shower of the
afternoon was on, although it was barely three o'clock.

Redfield Pepper Burns, physician and surgeon, descended from the car, a
brawny figure in an enveloping gray motoring coat. He wore no hat upon
his heavy crop of coppery red hair--somewhere under the seat his cap was
abandoned, as usual. His face was brown with tan--a strong, fine face,
with dark-lashed hazel eyes alight under thick, dark eyebrows. From head
to foot he was a rather striking personality.

"This time," said he, firmly, "I'm going to leave the top up. It's
putting temptation in the way of something very weak to keep lowering the
top. We'll leave it up. There'll be one advantage." He looked round the
corner of the top into the face of his companion, as his hands adjusted
the straps.

"When we get to the fifty-miles-from-the-office stone, which we're going
to do in about five minutes, I can take leave of my bride without having
to observe the landscape except from the front."

"So you're going to take leave of her," observed his passenger. She did
not seem at all disturbed. As the car moved on she drew back her veil
from its position over her face, leaving her head covered only by a