"Nor do I, my son. Dreamers are our strictly unpaid torch-bearers. They
light the path for us; and we murmur 'Poor fools!' with a kind of
sneaking self-satisfaction, when they come a cropper."

"'Which I 'ope it won't 'appen to me!'" quoted Roy, cheered by Lady
Despard's approval. "Anyway, we're keen to speed up the better
understanding move--on the principle that Art unites and politics
divide."

"Very pithy--and approximately true! May I be allowed to proffer a sound
working maxim for youth on the war-path? 'Freedom and courage in
thought--obedience in act.' When I say obedience, I don't mean slavish
conformity. When I say freedom, I don't mean licence. Only the bond are
free."

"Jeffers, you're a Daniel! I'll pinch that pearl of wisdom! But what
about democracy--Cuthers' pet panacea? Isn't it making for
_dis_obedience in act--rebellion; and enslavement in thought--every man
reared on the same catch-words, minted with the same hall-mark?"

That roused the much-enduring British Lion--in the person of Cuthbert
Gordon.

"Confound you, Roy! This is a picnic, not a bally Union debate. You
can't argue for nuts; and when you start spouting you're the limit. But
two can play at that game!" He flourished a half-empty syphon of
lemonade, threatening the handle with a very square thumb.

"Fire away, old bean." Roy opened his mouth by way of invitation.
Cuthbert promptly pressed the trigger--and missed his mark.

There was a small shriek from Tara and from the girls on the bank: then
the opponents proceeded to deal with one another in earnest....

Dyan soon lost interest when India was not the theme; and, as the elders
fell into an undercurrent of talk, his eyes sought Tara's face. Her
answering smile spurred him to a bold move; and he leaned towards her,
over the edge of the boat. "Miss Despard," he said under his breath,
"won't you come for a stroll in the field?--Do."

She shook her head. "I'm too lazy! We've had enough exercise. And
there's the walk home."

Her refusal jarred him; but desire overruled pride. "You couldn't call
it exercise. Do come."

"Truly--I'm tired," she insisted gently, looking away from him towards
her mother.

It was Lady Despard's boast that she could listen to three conversations
at once; but even Tara was surprised when she casually put out a hand
and patted her knee. "Wise child. Better keep quiet till we start home."

The hand was not removed. Tara covered it with her own, and fu