The Rider in Khaki. Nat Gould

over again he had asked himself if he loved her and found no satisfactory answer.

      He knew many of his male friends accepted it as a foregone conclusion he would marry Evelyn Berkeley, and he smiled as he thought how they discussed him and his matrimonial prospects.

      It pleased him to think she preferred his society to that of other men, it flattered him when he recalled she might have been a countess had she wished. He asked her why she did not accept the titled suitor and she replied that titles had no attraction for her, that her mind was made up; there was somebody she liked very much, he might ask her to be his wife some day and she would wait.

      He rode several miles at a fast pace in the Park before turning his horse's head in the direction of The Forest.

      As he was passing the monastery ruins he saw Jane Thrush. She looked very sweet and winsome in her plain brown frock which matched the color of her hair; she had no hat, and its luxurious growth added to her rather refined rustic beauty.

      Alan was always courteous to women, and Jane was one of his favorites; so was her father, he had a sincere regard for the sturdy, silent gamekeeper.

      "Beautiful morning, Jane," he said. "You love to be out in the sun?"

      She smiled at him. How handsome he looked on his horse, and how well he sat the animal!

      "I am going to Little Trent to buy a few things for the house. I generally go through the wood," she said.

      "You and your father live quiet lives here. Wouldn't you like to be in the village?" he asked.

      "Oh no. I love the old ruin, and the cottage is so sweet I couldn't bear to leave it, and I'm sure Father would sooner be here than anywhere," said Jane eagerly.

      Alan laughed as he replied:

      "Don't be alarmed, you shall live in the cottage as long as you like.

       Do you ever feel afraid when you are alone at night?"

      "No; why should I? No one ever comes here, and there's Jack always on guard."

      "Wonderful dog, Jack," said Alan smiling.

      "He is. It's three years since you gave him to me. He is my constant companion."

      "He's a well-bred dog anyway; these black retrievers are hard to beat."

      "If anything happened to him I don't know what I'd do," she said.

      "I do," he answered. "I'd give you another in his place."

      "That wouldn't be the same at all," she said.

      "You prefer old friends?"

      "Yes, indeed."

      "Then I hope Jack will live a long time to be your faithful companion," said Alan.

CHAPTER III

       Table of Contents

      "HE'S A SPY"

      Evelyn Berkeley was at home, instructions were given that Mr. Chesney was to be admitted when he called. She greeted him cordially; he saw she was pleased to see him.

      "You bring the fresh air in with you. I suppose you have been riding in the Park?" she said, as she gave him her hand and a bright smile.

      "It's the best part of the day for riding. I wonder you do not go out more on horseback, you are a good rider."

      "You really think so?"

      "Yes—really."

      "I have no one to ride with."

      "There's me, won't I do?" he asked laughing.

      "Oh yes, you'll do very well indeed, but I have to be careful; I'm a lone woman and people talk."

      "Let 'em," said Alan.

      "That's all very well from your standpoint; you're a man, that makes all the difference."

      "Not in these days. Women are taking a hand in most things, giving the men a lead. They are independent; probably they are right."

      "Yes, I think they are, but still there are some things they cannot do; women are more likely to be talked about than men, it matters more to them."

      "Why should it?"

      "Because women are women, I can't give you a better answer," she said laughing.

      "I met Jane Thrush as I came past the monastery," he said. "Pretty girl, is she not? She seems to like her lonely life at the cottage, at least she says so."

      "A very pretty girl, and a good girl," was her reply.

      "Do you see her sometimes?" he asked.

      "Yes, very often; she comes here when she likes, Hannah is fond of her."

      "You're lucky to have Hannah Moss."

      "I am; she's a treasure."

      "Been at The Forest for years, hasn't she?"

      "She nursed me, that's a long time ago."

      He laughed as he said:

      "Not so very long ago, Eve; we were playmates, I am not very ancient."

      "Well, it seems a long time since I was a girl and you a boy."

      "We were good pals."

      "Always."

      "And we are now?" he questioned.

      "Pals? Does that fit the case?" she asked.

      "I hope so; I trust it always will."

      She hoped not, she wanted a deeper feeling to develop.

      Alan looked well, such a fine healthy man, strong, athletic, and she loved him; he little knew the strength of her feelings for him, how she longed to be his, to be conquered by him, to feel his strength pitted against her woman weakness. She kept herself in check, there was very little outward show of her love for him, although sometimes it would not be banished from her eyes, and they were beautiful eyes, eloquent, expressive, and this morning as she looked at him the love-light shone there, and he felt its power.

      She was a beautiful woman, he would not have been the man he was had he not felt her charm. She was a woman well developed in mind and body, her taste in dress was exquisite, she knew what suited her and declined to be fashioned by her dressmaker. She stood facing him, close to him, and his senses were intoxicated by her fragrance. The scent she used was delicate, the perfume exquisite, it was peculiar to her; a very dangerous woman when she cared to exercise her powers.

      "By Jove, Eve, you do look splendid!" he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm.

      She flushed slightly. It was a tribute to her charm and she accepted it; there could be no doubt about his sincerity.

      "Do I look better than usual?" she asked.

      "You always look well, but this morning you excel yourself, you are grand! I mean it. What a prize for some lucky man to win!"

      She laughed.

      "The lucky man has not come along yet apparently; I am near thirty," she said.

      "At the height of your charms; you'll meet the right man one day and he'll be carried off his feet and surrender at once, he'll have no option."

      "Can't he see, oh, can't he see he is the right man! I'd fling myself into his arms if he asked me," she thought with longing.

      "He will have to hurry up," she answered smiling.

      He remained an hour or so and then left.

      "Be sure and come to my house in town in Derby week," she said.

      "I'll be there. You asked me to