The following day he put his plan into execution. It was early in the afternoon when he entered the hotel, and going at once to the reception-room, he sent up his card. He had not long to wait for Miss Sally. He had scarcely taken two or three turns across the floor ere she floated into the room with both hands outstretched, an eager smile on her red lips.
He took one of the outstretched hands, bowed ever it coldly, and hastily dropped it.
"I was expecting you this afternoon," said Sally, archly, pretending not to notice his constraint, "and here you are at last."
"Miss Pendleton," he began, stiffly, "would you mind getting your hat and taking a little stroll with me? I have something to talk over with you, and I do not wish all those people on the porch, who are listening to us even now, to hear."
"I would be delighted," answered Sally. "Come on. My hat is right out there on a chair on the veranda."
He followed her in silence. It was not until they were some little distance from the hotel that he found voice to speak.
"You say you want to talk to your betrothed," laughed the girl, with a toss of her yellow curls; "but you have maintained an unbroken silence for quite a time."
"I have been wondering how to begin speaking of the subject which weighs so heavily on my mind, and I think the best way is to break right into it."
"Yes," assented Sally; "so do I."
"It is about our betrothal," he began, brusquely. "I want to ask you a plain, frank question, Miss Pendleton, and I hope you will be equally as frank with me; and that is, do you consider what you are pleased to call your betrothal to me, and which I considered at the time only a girlish prank, actually binding?"