"If we do poorly because of lack of wisdom?" she pressed him further. "The cost is the same," he answered bitterly. "That is a man's view. I don't like to feel so responsible." "It would n't be necessary for women to be responsible for anything if men lived up to their best." She laughed comfortably. He was one who would. She liked the uncompromising way in which his lips closed below his quick imaginative eyes. It seemed but a matter of minutes before the train drew up at a toy station which looked like the suburban office of a real estate development company. Here they learned that the summer schedule was not yet in force, which meant that they would be unable to find a train back until four o'clock. "I should have inquired at the other end. That oversight is either chance or stupidity," he exclaimed. She met his eyes frankly, apparently not at all disconcerted. "We can't decide which until we learn how it turns out, can we?" she laughed. "No," he replied seriously, "it will depend upon that." "Then," she said, "we need n't worry until the end. I have a feeling, grown strong now that we are here, that we shall need the extra time. I think we shall find him." "That result alone will excuse my carelessness." She appeared a bit worried over a new thought. "I forgot. This will delay you further on your vacation." "No. Nothing can do that," he interrupted her. "Every day, every hour I live is my vacation." "That," she said, "is a fine way to take life." He looked startled, but hastened to find a vehicle to carry them the three miles which lay between the station and the bungalow. He found an old white horse attached to the dusty skeleton of a depot wagon waiting for chance passengers. They clambered into this and were soon jogging at an easy pace over the fragrant bordered road which wandered with apparent aimlessness between the green fields. The driver turned