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He had a suit of clothes for each day
in the week on the present occasion
two, for he wore an outing garb of
immaculate white, even to the cap,
gloves and shoes.
"I was on my lonely way to the
function," he observed, coming near
er. "I made out some one on the
porch. May I hope that I will have
the company of a good angel for the
rest of my route?"
"You may," spoke Grace, promptly
and deliberately, thinking to herself
that her frame of mind at the present
moment was yery far from being an
gelic Here was her opportunity to
teach that "presumptuous Paul Les
lie" a severe lesson. That he would
arrive later, profuse with excuseg,
she doubted not He should find her
gone, with another, and all that even
ing Willard should be at her side,
while Paul -- she would freeze him
with a look!
"You see, I don't know the exact
. way to the Walthams," explained
Willard, as they started down the
"Neither do I." said Grace, and
she quite hurried him for fear that
Paul would put in an appearance be
fore they got started.
"And it's deucedly dark, no moon,"
proceeded Willard, as if announcing
an individual and particular discov
ery. "I know it's two miles. We
can hardly miss it."
He rattled on in his empty-brained
way and Grace tried to keep up
the conversation. Half an hour later
they found they had wandered off
from the regular road and came up
against a barber wire fence, the road
having faded away into a mere foot
"I declare, I believe we are lost!'
Grace was getting nervous. She
suggested that they retrace their
steps. They regained the road,
branched off Into another one and
halted again at a crossroads.
"I know that we follow the Hub
bard road," said Willard, "but which
is it? Ah, there is a telegraph pole
with a sign on it"
The same was in clear evidence,
but, standing even only ten feet
away from it, neither could make out
the lettering on the sign.
"I'll have to climb up and see if I
can make it out at closer sight," ob
served Willard. "I'm something of a
climber, Miss Rogers, believe me! At
the field sports last year I won in the
greased pole climb, so this fifteen or
twenty-foot stunt is nothing to me.
Pardon, for a moment"
Showily the vaunted athlete as
cended the pole. Grace, waiting be
low, watched him reach the sign. A
certain growl of disgust echoed on
the still air. Mr. Willard came slid
ing back to terra firma.
"It reads 'Fresh Paint,'" he an
nounced. "Ah, you seem amused?"
Grace was, Indeed. She' leaned
against a convenient tree stump and
laughed. She could not help it Her
merriment rang out in free-rushing
volume. Her escort was a sight!
Gloves, garb, face, he was mottled,
daubed, striped and spdtted. The
black paint plastered him, stuck to
"I I had better see you safely in
sight of the scene of the function of
the evening," announced Willard, sol
emnly, "and find my way back home -by
He indulged in no further conver
sation. His dignity was offended at
"the hoydenish merriment" of his
companion. By accident they reach
ed the road. They came in sight of
a lighted house. -The sound of run
ning footsteps sounded behind them.
"You will be safe the rest of the
distance," spoke Willard. "I do not
care to be observed," and vanished in
among the shrubbery lining the road.
"Miss Rogers, Grace!" spoke a
breathless' voice, and it was Paul Les
lie. "Ran all the way. Hoped to
overtake you. Who was the ghastly
figure that just left you?"
Grace drew back with hauteur. The
quick-witted Paul noted it,