as visibly tried to let him see that this was partly because she spared him. "She speaks of it with perfect frankness."
"Then what's her second reason?"
"That if I'm not engaged"—Jean hung fire, but she brought it out—"at least she herself is."
"She herself?—instead of you?"
Paul's blandness was so utter that his companion's sense of the comic was this time, and in spite of the cruelty involved in a correction, really touched. "To you? No, not to you, my dear Paul. To a gentleman I found with her here. To that Mr. Vidal," said Jean.
Paul gasped. "You found that Mr. Vidal with her?" He looked bewilderedly about. "Where then is he?"
"He went over to Bounds."
"And she went with him?"
"No, she went after."
Still Paul stood staring. "Where the dickens did he drop from?"
"I haven't the least idea."
The young man had a sudden light. "Why, I saw him with mamma! He was here when I came off the river—he borrowed the boat."
