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“There isn’t much expense connected with it here. I bought one of my best ponies out of the Pound for six shillings, and the other two haven’t cost me much more than a fiver apiece.”

“I wish I could buy a pony for six shillings. But what about all your expenses in Hawkestone?”

“They won’t amount to much. The Hawkeston team are putting us up. We’re to be billeted at their homes.”

“Shall you like that?”

“I’d rather stay at an hotel, but the polo ground is in the country. It would mean a lot of motoring. And I’ve met most of the team. They’re real good chaps.”

Her first embarrassment had vanished. Now, she told herself, that it was a perfectly natural proceeding to go for a walk with an old acquaintance on such a glorious night. They had turned to the left along the road leading to the beach. The bright, full moon shone down from a clear sky on the small, white-painted bridge across the creek, and turned the stream to silver. Beyond the rolling sandhills they could see the gleam of the bay and hear the roar of the breakers. The road was quite deserted, for they had left the town behind them.

“How did you know I was playing in the polo team?”

“I saw your name in the paper. But I knew before that. Mr. Waring told me.”

“You’ve been seeing him, have you?”

“Yes. I had morning tea with him when he got back from Australia.”

“He’s in town tonight. Have you met him?”

“For a few minutes this afternoon. He called at my shop.”