ong dissent. I stood among
the rocks watching them, very much puzzled as to what I should do
next. To follow them and break into their intimate conversation
seemed to be an outrage, and yet my clear duty was never for an
instant to let him out of my sight. To act the spy upon a friend
was a hateful task. Still, I could see no better course than to
observe him from the hill, and to clear my conscience by
confessing to him afterwards what I had done. It is true that if
any sudden danger had threatened him I was too far away to be of
use, and yet I am sure that you will agree with me that the
position was very difficult, and that there was nothing more
which I could do.

Our friend, Sir Henry, and the lady had halted on the path and
were standing deeply absorbed in their conversation, when I was
suddenly aware that I was not the only witness of their
interview. A wisp of green floating in the air caught my eye, and
another glance showed me that it was carried on a stick by a man
who was moving among the broken ground. It was Stapleton with his
butterfly-net. He was very much closer to the pair than I was,
and he appeared to be moving in their direction. At this instant
Sir Henry suddenly drew Miss Stapleton to his side. His arm was
round her, but it seemed to me that she was straining away from
him with her face averted. He stooped his head to hers, and she
raised one hand as if in protest. Next moment I saw them spring
apart and turn hurriedly round. Stapleton was the cause of the
interruption. He was running wildly towards them, his absurd net
dangling behind him. He gesticulated and almost danced with
excitement in front of the lovers. What the scene meant I could
not imagine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abusing Sir
Henry, who offered explanations, which became more angry as the
other refused to accept them. The lady stood by in haughty
silence. Finally Stapleton turned upon his heel and beckoned in a
peremptory way to his sister, who, after an irresolute glance at
Sir Henry, walked off by the side of her brother. The
naturalist's angry gestures showed that the lady was included in
his displeasure. The baronet stood for a minute looking after
them, and then he walked slowly back the way that he had come,
his head hanging, the very picture of dejection.

What all this meant I could not imagine, but I was deeply ashamed
to have witnessed so intimate a scene without my friend's
knowledge. I ran down the hil