She hesitated, then met his gaze with a distressed smile:

"You don't really mean that, Sandy--"

"I've meant it for ten years.... But it doesn't matter--"

"Sandy!... It _does_ matter--if--"

"No, it doesn't.... Come on and kick these leaves about and we'll make a
million dollars in ginseng!"

But she remained seated, mute, her gaze a sorrowful interrogation which
at length he could not pretend to ignore:

"Stephanie child, don't worry. I'm not worrying. I'm glad I told you....
Now just let me go on as I've always gone--"

"How _can_ we?"

"Easily. Shut your eyes, breathe deeply, lifting both arms and lowering
them while counting ten in German--"

"Sandy, don't be so foolish at--such a time."

"Such a time? What time is it?" pretending to consult his watch with
great anxiety. Then a quick smile of relief spread over his features:
"It's all right, Stephanie; it's my hour to be foolish. If you'll place
a lump of sugar on my nose, and say 'when,' I'll perform."

There was no answering smile on her face.

"It's curious," she said, "how a girl can make a muddle of life without
even trying."

"But just think what you might have done if you'd tried! You've much to
be thankful for," he said gravely.

She raised her eyes, considering him:

"I wonder," she said, under her breath.

"Sure thing, Stephanie. You might have done worse; you might have
married me. Throw away those flowers--there's a good girl--and forget
what they meant."

Slowly, deliberately, blossom by blossom she drew them from her girdle
and laid them on the moss beside her.

"There's one left," he said cheerfully. "Raus mit it!"

But she made no motion to detach it; appeared to be unconscious of it
and of him as she turned her face and looked silently toward the place
where Neville had disappeared.

An hour or two later, when Gordon was ready to return to the house, he
shouted for Neville. Cameron also lifted up his voice in a series of
prolonged howls.

But Neville was far beyond earshot, and still walking through woods and
valleys and pleasant meadows in the general direction of the Estwich
hills.

Somewhere there amid that soft rolling expanse of green was the woman
who would never marry him. And it was now, at last, he decided that he
would never take her on any other terms even though they were her own
terms; that he must give her up to chance again as innocent as chance
had given her into his brief keeping. No, she would nev