"And when I think of those weary, dreary foreign watering-places of which I grew so tired, and of those tiresome Swiss hotels, I think I am in Heaven to be once more in my own country among my own kith and kin, and hearing no language but good, honest English."
"I intended to go to Europe this summer," said Thorndyke, meekly. "I had planned it for two or three years."
"Why did you not go?" asked Constance, heedlessly.
"Because you asked me to visit you," replied Thorndyke, something within him forcing the truth out of him against his will, and then he added, hastily:
"Forgive me, I'm a perfect brute. I wouldn't blame you in the least if you sent me back north by the next train."
"Get up, Frolic, you idiot!" cried Constance to her smart cob, and flicking him with the whip. Her face coloured, her eyes shone—it was plain she was not displeased. But a horrible suspicion occurred to Thorndyke—possibly she was, after all, a thorough-going flirt! Many of those South-
