"Oh, Alice!" cried May, with an air of sudden enlightenment.
"Well, what about her?" Jack demanded.
"Nothing," replied May, smiling demurely to herself, "only she will be glad that the engagement is broken. She said awfully hard things about you."
"I am obliged to her," he answered grimly.
"Oh, not really awful," May corrected herself quickly, "and anyway it was only because she was so fond of you."
To this he made no reply, and for some time they drove on in silence. Then Jack shook off his brief depression, and apparently set himself to be as amusing as he could. He aroused May to a condition of mirth almost wildly joyous. They laughed and jested, told each other stories, and the girl's eyes shone, her dimples danced in and out like sun-flecks flashing on the water, the color in her cheeks was warm and delightful. Not a word more was said on personal matters until Jack deposited her at her own door once more.
"I never had such a perfectly lovely ride in my life!" she exclaimed, looking at him with eyes full of animation and gratitude.
"Then you see what you are losing in throwing me over," he returned. "Oh, you've had your chance and lost it!"
She laughed brightly, and held out her hand.
"But you see," she said mischievously, "the trouble is that the best thing about the ride was just that loss!"