"Harry, you won't be quite the same sort of boy when you come back from
Paris. Will you promise not to go until we are married?"

"Will you promise not to go on this trip of adventure?"

"Why should I?" demanded Pauline.

"Because you won't ever be quite the same sort of girl when you come
back."

After breakfast the next morning when the big touring car rolled up to
the front door to got Pauline and Owen, Harry was hurt that he had not
been consulted. Pauline's belated invitation to go with them to the
aviation field in the automobile was declined. Away went the big car
to the fine stretch of roads, where it made short work of the distance
to the aviation grounds.

Owen made a complete canvass of the "hangars" and soon accounted for
every machine entered in the race for the next day. From all but one
of the aviators he obtained a flat refusal. Not for money or any other
consideration would they take a strange woman as a passenger. The only
exception was a Frenchman, whose hesitation in declining led Owen to
further argument. At the last moment Pauline, impatient at the
suspense, entered the Frenchman's "hangar" and added her blandishments
to Owen's financial inducements. The gallant foreigner succumbed and a
bargain was struck. He exhibited his tame bird of steel and wood and
cloth with the utter pride of a mother showing off her only child.

The aviator's fingers touched one of the wires and the easy smile left