;
I'd half forget it when I chanced on you!
--SCHILLER.

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.
--BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

The day of the Templeton's garden fete was as bright and cloudless as
the heart of man or woman could desire. Verity, who had dressed herself
at an unconscionably early hour, sat at an upper window with Babs in
her arms, watching brakes and carriages drive past, filled with gaily
attired people. Malcolm had issued his sovereign mandate that they must
not be amongst the earliest arrivals, and Verity panted with impatience
long before she could induce her household tyrants to lay aside pipe
and cigarette.

Malcolm was not in a festive mood. He had spent his morning restlessly,
pacing up and down the woodlands, with an unread book under his arm. He
was secretly chafed and even a little hurt that neither of the sisters
had needed his help. He had dropped more than one hint on the previous
day, when some errand took him to the Wood House, and he found
Elizabeth looking heated and tired, superintending the removal of some
furniture.

"You might make use of an idle man," he had said half-jestingly. "I
assure you that I am a complete Jack-of-all-trades, and I don't mind 'a
scrow,' as old Nurse Dawson calls it." But though Elizabeth smiled, she
did not avail herself of this friendly offer; but it was Dinah who gave
him the real explanation.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Herrick," she had returned gratefully; "we should
have been so glad of your help, only David Carlyon and his father are
doing all we want. Mr. Carlyon is so useful, and David spends all his
spare time with us."

"David"--in a pondering voice. And Dinah blushed as if she had been
guilty of an indiscretion.

"Oh, we only call him that in order to distinguish him from his
father--the two Carlyons are so puzzling; but he is an old and a very
dear friend, and at my age it does not matter," finished Dinah with her
charming smile.

Malcolm had to content himself with this explanation. They were old
friends. Yes, of course, and he was a comparatively new one. He
expected too much; his demands were unreasonable. Nevertheless Malcolm
felt a pang of envy when he saw David Carlyon tearing breathlessly
through the woodlands with his arms full of greenery from the vicarage
garden, and whistling like a schoolboy.

When at last Malcolm and his friends turned in at the gates of the Wood
House that aft