much," he went on cheerfully; "you've got a good play
there. You must appreciate them to her--you understand?--appreciate them
kindly, like a man in a watch-tower. You must laugh at them only about
once a week, and then very tolerantly--you understand?--and kindly,
and--and appreciatively."

"You're a colossal ass, Hollie!" said Hawker. "You----"

"Yes, yes, I know," replied the other peacefully; "a colossal ass. Of
course." After looking into the distance again, he murmured: "I'm
worried about that picnic. I wish I knew she was going. By heavens, as a
matter of fact, she must be made to go!"

"What have you got to do with it?" cried the painter, in another sudden
outburst.

"There! there!" said Hollanden, waving his hand. "You fool! Only a
spectator, I assure you."

Hawker seemed overcome then with a deep dislike of himself. "Oh, well,
you know, Hollie, this sort of thing----" He broke off and gazed at the
trees. "This sort of thing---- It----"

"How?" asked Hollanden.

"Confound you for a meddling, gabbling idiot!" cried Hawker suddenly.

Hollanden replied, "What did you do with that violet she dropped at the
side of the tennis court yesterday?"

CHAPTER V.

Mrs. Fanhall, with the two children, the Worcester girls, and Hollanden,
clambered down the rocky path. Miss Fanhall and Hawker had remained on
top of the ledge. Hollanden showed much zeal in conducting his
contingent to the foot of the falls. Through the trees they could see
the cataract, a great shimmering white thing, booming and thundering
until all the leaves gently shuddered.

"I wonder where Miss Fanhall and Mr. Hawker have gone?" said the younger
Miss Worcester. "I wonder where they've gone?"

"Millicent," said Hollander, looking at her fondly, "you always had such
great thought for others."

"Well, I wonder where they've gone?"

At the foot of the falls, where the mist arose in silver clouds and the
green water swept into the pool, Miss Worcester, the elder, seated on
the moss, exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Hollanden, what makes all literary men so
peculiar?"

"And all that just because I said that I could have made better
digestive organs than Providence, if it is true that he made mine,"
replied Hollanden, with reproach. "Here, Roger," he cried, as he dragged
the child away from the brink, "don't fall in there, or you won't be the
full-back at Yale in 1907, as you have planned. I'm sure I don't know
how to answer you, Miss Worcester. I