thing's as simple as possible. I wonder you couldn't think of it for
yourself. Where's a piece of string? Now, isn't this A1? Put it inside
your case. There! Off you go!"

Aldred could not but acknowledge the improvement in her painting tin,
but she seemed, nevertheless, in no hurry to start. She re-arranged her
paints, took off her hat and put it on again, and loitered about in so
marked a manner that her brother could not fail to notice her
hesitation.

"What's the matter now?" he enquired.

"You might come with me, Keith!"

"Oh, bother!"

"You know quite well I can't go alone."

"Why not?"

"Because Father said I mustn't sit sketching by myself."

"That's a horse of another colour. In that case, why did Aunt Bertha let
you get ready?"

"She didn't. She's out, so I couldn't ask her."

"Taking French leave?" chuckled Keith.

"I thought it would be all right if you went too."

Keith groaned in reply.

"We need only walk for five minutes along the road, and then turn into
the path through the wood," suggested Aldred. "There's a field of cut
corn in front of the cottage; you could sit on the corn and read if you
like."

"Not half so cool as here."

"Oh, Keith, you might be nice when it's holidays!" pleaded Aldred. "It's
the only time I ever have anybody to go about with. I'm sure I do heaps
of things for you; I was playing cricket with you all morning, wasn't
I?"

"Yes, and a precious butterfingers you were, too. There, then, you
needn't look so blue! I'll go, but on the one condition that you let me
read in peace and quiet, and don't bother."

"I won't say a single word, if you don't want to talk. I'll be
absolutely dumb and mum!"

"Well, I hardly believe you'll be able to hold your tongue to that
extent. I'll allow you an occasional remark, but you mustn't keep up a
continual flow of conversation. Where's my straw hat?--it's too hot for
a cap. I think I'm an absolute saint to turn out on such a blazing
afternoon!"

Having gained her point, Aldred ran readily enough to fetch her
brother's hat, and set off with him down the drive in a state of beaming
satisfaction.

Dingfield, the place where they lived, though only an hour's distance
from London, was sufficiently in the country to afford a pleasant
prospect of trees, meadows, and winding reaches of river. The hedgerows
were thick with twining bryony and feathery traveller's joy; here and
there the hips were reddening, and a ripe blackberry o