But Pollock continued at his side. It was only a few rods to the wagon gate and he persisted until they reached it.
Two figures were coming down the driveway and paused inside the gate. Zelda had missed her father when they prepared to close the house for the night, and she and Olive had gone out to look for him.
“Is that you, father?”
“Yes, my daughter. The night is glorious, isn’t it?”
Then taking Pollock by the arm he whispered: “Pray say nothing about our meeting. I will explain that. You meant kindly enough, but you were mistaken.”
Pollock spoke to the young women cheerily and waited for Dameron to make some sign.
“I was walking up the road,” the old man explained, “and Mr. Pollock came by and stopped to talk to me. We were commenting on the superb beauty of the heavens. And did you see that meteor a moment ago? It was the finest of the season.”
“No; we didn’t see it,” said Zelda. “We have been in the house all the evening.”
“Yes; you girls leave it to practical fellows like Mr. Pollock and me to go star-gazing,” said her father, jauntily.
Zelda had opened the gate. Pollock declined her invitation to come up to the house.