Presently young Mattison appeared in the doorway and asked her to come in and dance, but she said that she was tired, and we three stood laughing and chatting for some ten minutes longer, when a step suddenly sounded on the gravel path and Radnor rounded the corner of the house.

As the bright moonlight fell on his face, I stared at him in astonishment.

He was pale to his very lips and there were strained anxious lines beneath his eyes.
"What's the matter, Radnor ?" Polly cried.

"You look as if you'd found the ha'nt!" He made an effort at composure and laughed in return, though to my ears the laugh sounded very hollow.
"I believe this is my dance, isn't it, Polly ?" he asked, joining us with rather an over-acted air of carelessness.
"Your dance was over half an hour ago," Polly returned.

"This is Mr.
Mattison's." She turned indoors with the young man, and Rad following on their heels, made his way to the punch bowl where I saw him toss off three or four glasses with no visible interval between them.