in your speed-boats, can take the wheel of an old-time sloop or schooner, without an auxiliary, and get out of your own way in her?”

“But we get there just the same,” the same girl retorted.

“And I don’t deny it,” Dick answered. “But you are not always pretty. I’ll tell you a pretty sight that no one of you can ever present — Paula, there, with the reins of four slashing horses in her hands, her foot on the brake, swinging tally-ho along a mountain road.”

On a warm morning, in the cool arcade of the great patio, a chance group of four or five, among whom was Paula, formed about Graham, who had been reading alone. After a time he returned to his magazine with such absorption that he forgot those