“Yes; I remember now.”
The malicious smile on the girl’s delicate lips faded. “I wish I, hadn’t said that,” she cried impulsively. “I hate Cousin Mabel. I always have hated her. She’s a cat. And I think the way she, acted in—in the—the—well, about Judge Enderby and—“.
“Please!” Miss Van Arsdale’s tone was peremptory. “Here is my place.” She indicated a clearing with a little nest of a camp in it.
“Shall I go back?” asked Io remorsefully.
“No.”
Miss Van Arsdale dismounted and, after a moment’s hesitancy, the other followed her example. The hostess threw open the door and a beautiful, white-ruffed collie rushed to her with barks of joy. She held out a hand to her new guest.
“Be welcome,” she said with a certain stately gravity, “for as long as you will stay.”
“It might be some time,” answered Io shyly. “You’re tempting me.”
“When is your wedding?”
“Wedding! Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m not going to marry Carter Holmesley either.”