ook for you, but you weren't in sight. I met such a strange
man, coming in at the gate; he turned all the way around on the seat
of his cart to stare at me. I didn't like him."

She did not press Oliver with questions and, as a result, he sat down
beside her and told her the whole tale of his afternoon's adventures,
with a glowing description of the Beeman and Polly.

"I must take you there to see them," he said, "I can't wait to show
you how things look from that hill. And you should see the bees, and
the little house, and hear the wind in the big tree. We will go
to-morrow."

When Cousin Jasper appeared for dinner, Oliver felt somewhat
apprehensive, but to his relief no questions were asked him. Their
cousin listened rather absently while Janet explained why the proposed
visit had not been made, and he offered no comment. He looked paler
even than usual, with deeper lines in his face, and he sat at the end
of the long table, saying little and eating less. Afterward he sat
with them in the library, still restless and uneasy and speaking only
now and then, in jerking sentences that they could scarcely follow. It
was an evident relief to all three of them when the time came to say
good night.

Oliver looked back anxiously over his shoulder, as their cousin
returned to his study and as they, at the other end of the long room,
went out into the hall.

"Something has happened to upset him more than usual," he said. "Do
you think he could have guessed what I intended to do?"

Janet shook her head emphatically.

"He couldn't have guessed," she declared. "Even now I can hardly
believe it of you, myself, Oliver."

Oliver, rather ashamed, was beginning to wonder at himself also.

They had fallen into the habit of going upstairs early to the
comfortable sitting room into which their bedrooms opened. It was
their own domain, a pleasant, breezy place, with deep wicker chairs,
gay chintz curtains, flower boxes, and wide casements opening on a
balcony. They had both found some rare treasures among the books
downstairs and liked to carry them away for an hour of enjoyment
before it was bedtime.

Oliver settled himself comfortably beside a window, opened his book,
but did not immediately begin to read. His eyes wandered about the
perfectly appointed room, stared out at the moonlit garden, and then
came back to his sister.

"Why aren't we happy here, Janet?" he questioned. "It seems as though
we had everything to make us