ister--at least, she always thought so--and even these we deemed
the mere passing flirtations of one who made no secret of saying that he
regarded marriage as an intolerable slavery, or rather, the heavy price
that one paid for the pleasure of courtship."

"Are the mere levities with which I amused an hour to be recorded
against me as principles?"

"Only when such levities fitted into each other so accurately as to show
plan and contrivance."

"It was Loyd said that. That speech was his. I'd lay my life on it."

"I think not. At least, if the thought were his, he'd have expressed it
far better."

"You admire him, then?" asked he, peering closely at her..

"I wonder why they are not here," said she, turning her head away. "This
same race ought to come off by this time."

"Why don't you answer my question?"

"There he goes! Rowing away all alone, too, and my aunt is waving her
handkerchief in farewell. See how fast he sends the boat through the
water. I wonder why he gave up the race?"

"Shall I tell you? He dislikes whatever he is challenged to do. He is
one of those fellows who will never dare to measure himself against
another."

"My aunt is beckoning to us to come back, Mr. Calvert."

"And my taste is for going forward," muttered he, while at the same time
he sent the boat's head suddenly round, and pulled vigorously towards
the shore.

"May I trust that what has passed between us is a secret, and not to be
divulged to another--not even to your sister?"

"If you desire--if you exact."

"I do, most decidedly. It is shame enough to be rejected. I don't see
why my disgrace is to be paraded either for pity or ridicule."

"Oh, Mr. Calvert--"

"Or triumphed over," said he sternly, as he sent the boat up to the side
of the little jetty, where Miss Grainger and her niece awaited them.

"Poor Loyd has just got bad news from home," said Miss Grainger, "and he
has hastened back to ask, by telegraph, if they wish him to return."

"Anyone ill, or dying?" asked Calvert carelessly.

"No, it's some question of law about his father's vicarage. There would
seem to be a doubt as to his presentation--whether the appointment lay
with the patron of the bishop."

Calvert turned to mark how the girls received these tidings, but they
had walked on, and with heads bent down, and close together, were deep
in conversation.

"I thought it was only in my profession," said Calvert sneeringly,
"where corrupt patronage was