“Mary thinks we are all heathens not to have a car,” said Benis.  “When are you going to choose yours, desire?”

“Not at all, I think,” said Desire.

Men, even clever men, are like that.  The professor had seen no possible sting in his idly spoken words.  But the sore, hot spot, which now seemed ever present in Desire’s heart, grew sorer and hotter.  To owe a car to the reminder of another woman!  Naturally, Desire could do very well without it.

“But don’t you miss a car terribly?” asked Mary with kind concern.

“I cannot miss what I have never had.”

“Oh, in the west, I suppose one does have horses still.”

“There may be a few left, I think.”  Desire’s slow smile crept out as memory brought the asthmatic “chug” of the “Tillicum.”  “My father and I used a launch almost exclusively.”  In spite of herself she could not resist a glance at the professor.  His eyes met hers with a ghost of their old twinkle.

“A launch?” Mary’s surprise was patent.  “Did you run it yourself?”

“We had a Chinese engineer,” said Desire demurely.  “But I could manage it if necessary.”

Further conversation upon modes of locomotion on the coast was cut off by the precipitate arrival of John who, coming up the drive in his best manner, narrowly escaped a triple fatality at the steps.

“You people are careless!” he exclaimed indignantly.  “What do you mean by standing on the drive?  Some-one might have been hurt!  Anyone here like to get driven to the garden party?”

“Do doctors find time for garden parties in Bainbridge?” asked Mary in mock surprise.

“Healthiest place you ever saw!” declared Dr. John gloomily.  “And anyway, this garden party is a prescription of mine.  Naturally I am expected to take my own medicine.  I said to Mrs. B. Jones, ’What you need, dear Mrs. Jones, is a little gentle excitement combined with fresh air, complete absence of mental strain and plenty of cooling nourishment.’  Did you ever hear a garden party more delicately suggested?  Desire, will you sit in front?”

“Husbands first,” said Benis.  “In the case of a head-on collision, I claim the post of honorable danger.”

It was surely a natural and a harmless speech.  But instantly the various mistaken thoughts of his hearers turned it to their will.  Desire’s eyes grew still more clouded under their lowered lids.  “He does not dare to sit beside Mary,” whispered her particular mental highwayman.  “Oho, he is beginning to show human jealousy at last,” thought Mary.  “He has noticed that she likes to sit beside me,” exulted John.  Of them all, only Aunt Caroline was anywhere near the truth.  “He has taken my warning to heart,” thought she.  “But then, I always knew I could manage men if I had a chance.”

A garden party in Bainbridge is not exciting, in itself.  In themselves, no garden parties are exciting.  As mere garden parties they partake somewhat of the slow and awful calm of undisturbed nature.  One could see the grass grow at a garden party, if so many people were not trampling on it.  So it is possible that there were those in Mrs. Burton Jones’ grounds that afternoon who, bringing no personal drama with them, had rather a dull time.  For others it was a fateful day.  There were psychic milestones on Mrs. Burton Jones’ smooth lawn that afternoon.