t Gerald had not
voluntarily addressed her once that morning.

"Never," replied Gerald, staring out at the lake.

"Don't you ever do any thing you don't want to, because you ought to?"

"I don't always see the ought. For instance, why should I put myself out
to entertain Miss Delano as Phebe does?"

"I don't know," muttered Bell. "I wouldn't, I am sure. She is
mortally dull."

"One might imagine reasons for the self-sacrifice, I suppose," said De
Forest, making a languid snatch at a butterfly fluttering near. "The
possibility, we will say, that it might please the gentle old babbler
to come under the condescension of your notice. How would that do for
a motive?"

"Why should I want to please her?" insisted Gerald, removing a hideous
beetle from her dress with all possible care lest she should hurt it. "I
don't want to. I don't care for her, nor she for me. Why should I put
myself out for her? What claim has she on me that I should displease
myself to please her?"

"Let us see," said Denham, ruminatingly. "Miss Delano's pleasure against
Miss Vernor's displeasure, or _vice versa, Miss Vernor's pleasure against
Miss Delano's displeasure. Yes; the balance of pleasure remains quite
the same whichever lady has it. Apart from principle, the logic is
unanswerable."

"It is admirable," commented De Forest. "I always did like logic so much
better than moral philosophy. Hello, what's the matter now?"

There was a wail of distress somewhere in the distance.

Gerald turned her shapely head and listened a moment. "It's only Olly,"
she said, composedly. "I recognize the cry. He isn't hurt. Oh, you
needn't go, Mr. Halloway; Olly never comes to any harm. He's only
quarrelling with some one."

De Forest raised himself on his elbow to listen, while Halloway walked
off in the direction of the outburst. "There are possibilities lurking in
picnics, you know," he remarked, resuming his recumbent position, "mad
bulls, and rabbit traps, and fine chances for a drown now and then. But I
suppose we needn't trouble ourselves, Mr. Halloway'll see to it. Besides,
Olly bears the charmed life of the wicked. Miss Masters, I hope you
remember to give daily thanks that you haven't any small brothers."

"I do devoutly give thanks that I haven't any sisters," said Bell, with
an unaffectionate glance toward Gerald. "I should hate them."

And so the desultory talk rambled on, the little group growing larger by
degrees as the approaching lunche