My first impulse was to keep him in hot water.  Fortunately I thought twice.

“I don’t know anything about Miss Trevor’s feelings—­” I began.

“Naturally not—­” he interrupted, with a smile.

“But I have a notion that, if she ever fancied you, she doesn’t care a straw for you to-day.”

“Doesn’t she now,” he replied somewhat regretfully.  Here was one of the knots in his character I never could untie.

“Understand, that is simply my guess,” I said.  “You must have discovered that it is never possible to be sure of a woman’s feelings.”

“Found that out long ago,” he replied with conviction, and added:  “Then you think I need not anticipate any trouble from her?”

“I have told you what I think,” I answered; “you know better than I what the situation is.”

He still lingered.

“Does she appear to be in,—­ah,—­in good spirits?”

I had work to keep my face straight.

“Capital,” I said; “I never saw her happier.”

This seemed to satisfy him.

“Downcast at first, happy now,” he remarked thoughtfully.  “Yes, she got over it.  I’m much obliged to you, Crocker.”

I left him to finish his short story and walked out across the circle of smooth lawn towards the golf links.  And there I met Mrs. Cooke and her niece coming in together.  The warm red of her costume became Miss Thorn wonderfully, and set off the glossy black of her hair.  And her skin was glowing from the exercise.  An involuntary feeling of admiration for this tall, athletic young woman swept over me, and I halted in my steps for no other reason, I believe, than that I might look upon her the longer.

What man, I thought resentfully, would not travel a thousand miles to be near her?

“It is Mr. Crocker,” said Mrs. Cooke; “I had given up all hope of ever seeing you again.  Why have you been such a stranger?”

“As if you didn’t know, Aunt Maria,” Miss Thorn put in gayly.

“Oh yes, I know,” returned her aunt, “and I have not been foolish enough to invite the bar without the magnet.  And yet, Mr. Crocker,” she went on playfully, “I had imagined that you were the one man in a hundred who did not need an inducement.”

Miss Thorn began digging up the turf with her lofter:  it was a painful moment for me.

“You might at least have tried me, Mrs. Cooke,” I said.

Miss Thorn looked up quickly from the ground, her eyes searchingly upon my face.  And Mrs. Cooke seemed surprised.

“We are glad you came, at any rate,” she answered.