“It’s all over,” groaned Bonner dejectedly.  Something had slipped from under his feet and he was dangling in space, figuratively speaking.  “There’s nothing to do, Rosalie, except to chase them down.  Mr. Crow has ruined everything.  I’ll leave you at Bonner Place with mother and Edith, and I’ll hurry back to Tinkletown.”

The excitement was too much for Rosalie’s nerves.  She was in a state of physical collapse when he set her down at his uncle’s summer home half an hour later.  Leaving her to explain the situation to the curious friends, he set speed again for Tinkletown, inwardly cursing Anderson Crow for a meddling old fool.

In the meantime Tinkletown was staring open-mouthed upon a new sensation.  The race between Anderson and Bonner was hardly under way when down the main street of the town came a jaded team and surrey.  Behind the driver sat a pretty young woman with an eager expression on her pale face, her gaze bent intently on the turn in the street which hid Anderson Crow’s home from view.  Beside the young woman lounged another of her sex, much older, and to all appearances, in a precarious state of health.  The young men along the street gasped in amazement and then ventured to doff their timid hats to the young woman, very much as if they were saluting a ghost.  Few of them received a nod of recognition from Elsie Banks, one-time queen of all their hearts.

Roscoe Crow bounded out to the gate when he saw who was in the carriage, first shouting to his mother and sisters, who were indoors receiving congratulations and condolences from their neighbours.

Miss Banks immediately inquired if she could see Rosalie.

“She ain’t here,” said Roscoe.  “She’s away fer a month—­over at the Bonners’.  He’s her feller, you know.  Ma!  Here’s Miss Banks!  Edner!  Sue!” Mrs. Crow and the girls flew out to the gate, babbling their surprise and greetings.

“This is my mother,” introduced the young lady.  “We have just come from New York, Mrs. Crow.  We sail for England this week, and I must see Rosalie before we go.  How can we get to Mr. Bonner’s place?”

“It’s across the river, about twelve miles from here,” said Mrs. Crow.  “Come in and rest yourselves.  You don’t have to go back to-day, do you?  Ain’t you married yet?”

“No, Mrs. Crow,” responded Elsie, with a stiff, perfunctory smile.  “Thank you, we cannot stop.  It is necessary that we return to New York to-night, but I must see Rosalie before going.  You see, Mrs. Crow, I do not expect to return to America.  We are to live in London forever, I fear.  It may be the last chance I’ll have to see Rosalie.  I must go on to Bonner Place to-day.  But, dear me, I am so tired and hot, and it is so far to drive,” she cried ruefully.  “Do you know the way, driver?” The driver gruffly admitted that he did not.  Roscoe eagerly bridged the difficulty by offering to act as pathfinder.

At first Mrs. Banks tried to dissuade her daughter from undertaking the long trip, but the girl was obstinate.  Her mother then flatly refused to accompany her, complaining of her head and heart.  In the end the elder lady decided to accept Mrs. Crow’s invitation to remain at the house until Elsie’s return.