“I see,” interrupted Lydia, teasingly.  “He failed to recognize your importance.”

“Nonsense, Lydia.  I hope you do not think I am a silly little fool.  It is only that I have not been accustomed to that kind of treatment, and I will not have it.”

Lydia was rather pleased that some one had appeared on the scene who did not at once bow down before Betty, and therefore she took the young man’s side of the argument.

“Do not be hard on poor Mr. Clarke.  Maybe he mistook you for an Indian girl.  He is handsome.  I am sure you saw that.”

“Oh, I don’t remember how he looked,” said Betty.  She did remember, but would not admit it.

The conversation drifted into other channels after this, and soon twilight came stealing down on them.  As Betty rose to go there came a hurried tap on the door.

“I wonder who would knock like that,” said Lydia, rising “Betty, wait a moment while I open the door.”

On doing this she discovered Clarke standing on the step with his cap in his hand.

“Why, Mr. Clarke!  Will you come in?” exclaimed Lydia.  “Thank you, only for a moment,” said Alfred.  “I cannot stay.  I came to find Betty.  Is she here?”

He had not observed Betty, who had stepped back into the shadow of the darkening room.  At his question Lydia became so embarrassed she did not know what to say or do, and stood looking helplessly at him.

But Betty was equal to the occasion.  At the mention of her first name in such a familiar manner by this stranger, who had already grievously offended her once before that day, Betty stood perfectly still a moment, speechless with surprise, then she stepped quickly out of the shadow.

Clarke turned as he heard her step and looked straight into a pair of dark, scornful eyes and a face pale with anger.

“If it be necessary that you use my name, and I do not see how that can be possible, will you please have courtesy enough to say Miss Zane?” she cried haughtily.

Lydia recovered her composure sufficiently to falter out: 

“Betty, allow me to introduce—­”

“Do not trouble yourself, Lydia.  I have met this person once before to-day, and I do not care for an introduction.”

When Alfred found himself gazing into the face that had haunted him all the afternoon, he forgot for the moment all about his errand.  He was finally brought to a realization of the true state of affairs by Lydia’s words.

“Mr. Clarke, you are all wet.  What has happened?” she exclaimed, noticing the water dripping from his garments.

Suddenly a light broke in on Alfred.  So the girl he had accosted on the road and “Betty” were one and the same person.  His face flushed.  He felt that his rudeness on that occasion may have merited censure, but that it had not justified the humiliation she had put upon him.

These two persons, so strangely brought together, and on whom Fate had made her inscrutable designs, looked steadily into each other’s eyes.  What mysterious force thrilled through Alfred Clarke and made Betty Zane tremble?