They laughed at each other.
"Good-bye, pretty stranger," he said.
"Good-bye, you nice boy!"
So he went away upstairs with his ice, and she stole out presently and ventured into the courtyard where the placid white horse stood as calmly as a cow.
And Stephanie, lying on her bed in her own room, twisted her body in anguish and, hands clenched, buried her face in her arms.
Helen, returning an hour later, and glancing into Stephanie's bed-room as she passed, saw the girl lying there.
"I thought you were motoring!" she exclaimed.
"The car is laid up," said Stephanie, in a muffled voice.
"Oh. Don't you feel well, Steve?"
"N-not very."