her water-proof hat. Her hair
was tumbling about her ears, and her bright cheeks were moist with rain,
or rather with the intermittent showers that the wind shook every now and
then from the still dripping oak trees above her. Peter thought her
lovelier than ever--a wood-nymph, half divine. Yet, obscurely, he felt a
change in her, from the beginning of their talk. Why had she sent for
him? The wildest notions had possessed him, ever since her letter reached
him. Yet, now that he saw her, they seemed to float away from him, like
thistle-down on the wind.

"Helena!--why did you send for me?"

"I was very dull, Peter,--I wanted you to amuse me!"

The boy laughed indignantly.

"That's all very well, Helena--but it won't wash. You're jolly well used
to getting all you want, I know--but you wouldn't have ordered me up
from Town--twelve hours in a beastly train--packed like sardines--just
to tell me that."

Helena looked at him thoughtfully. She began to eat some unripe
bilberries which she had gathered from the bank beside her, and they made
little blue stains on her white teeth.

"Old boy--I wanted to give you some advice."

"Well, give it quick," said Peter impatiently.

"No--you must let me take my time. Have you been to a great many dances
lately, Peter?"

"You bet!" The young Adonis shrugged his shoulders. "I seem to have been
through a London season, which I haven't done, of course, since 1914.
Never went to so many dances in my life!"

"Somebody tells me, Peter, that--you're a dreadful flirt!" said Helena,
still with those grave, considering eyes.

Peter laughed--but rather angrily.

"All very well for you to talk, Miss Helena! Please--how many men were
you making fools of--including your humble servant--before you went down
to Beechmark? You have no conscience, Helena! You are the 'Belle Dame
sans merci.'"

"All that is most unjust--and ridiculous!" said Helena mildly.

Peter went off into a peal of laughter. Helena persisted.

"What do you call flirting, Peter?"

"Turning a man's head--making him believe that you're gone on him--when,
in fact, you don't care a rap!"

"Peter!--then of course you _know_ I never flirted with you!" said
Helena, with vigour. Peter hesitated, and Helena at once pursued her
advantage.

"Let's talk of something more to the point. I'm told, Peter, that
you've been paying great attentions--marked attentions--to a very
nice girl--that everybody's talking about it,--and