silver
buds, floating serenely on their broad green and red pads; but prodigal
masses of wild roses, delicately rich in scent and various in color,
overhung the river in brave arching bowers or starred bushes and
hedgerows so closely that the green briers were hardly visible. Beds of
the large blue water forget-me-not floated beside the banks, and above
them creamy meadow-sweet lifted its tall plumes among the reeds and
grasses. Small water-rats swam busily from bank to bank or played on the
roots of the willows, and bright wings of birds and insects fluttered
and skimmed over the shining stream.

The Cherwell, though not then the crowded waterway it has since become,
was usually popular with boaters on such an afternoon. But there must
have been strong counter-attractions elsewhere, for Milly and Davison
passed only one, a party of children working very independent oars, on
their way to the little gray house above the ferry, where an old
Frenchman dispensed tea in arbors.

There was a kind of hypnotic charm in the gliding motion of the canoe
and the water running by. Milly was further dazed by Maxwell's talk. It
was full of mysterious references and couched in the masterful tone of a
person who had rights over her--a tone which before he had been more
willing than able to adopt; but now the bit was between his teeth.
Perhaps absorbed in his own intent, he hardly noticed how little she
answered; but he did notice every point of her beauty as she leaned back
on the cushions in the light shade of her parasol, from the soft
brightness of her hair to the glimpse of delicate white skin which
showed through the open-work stocking on her slender foot.

When they were in the straight watery avenue between green willow walls,
which leads up to the ferry, he slackened the pace.

"And what are you going to do next week?" he asked, as one of a series
of ironical questions.

"A great deal; much more than I care to do. I'm going up to town to see
the new Savoy opera, and I'm going to a dance, and to several
garden-parties, and to dine with the Master of Durham."

"Quite enough for some people; but not for you, Mildred. Think of
it--year after year, always the same old run. October Term, Lent Term,
Summer Term! A little change in Vacations, say a month abroad, when you
can afford it. You aren't meant for it, you know you're not, any more
than a swallow's meant for the little hopping, pecketing life of a
London sparrow."

"Ind