You ought to have, then," said Robert, severely. "I had no idea it was
so bad. You'll have to give me some lessons and see whether I do better
next time. Or perhaps Miss Hartley will; she seems to be all right, so
far as the theory of the thing goes."

Hartley smiled uneasily, and to avoid replying, moved off a little way
and became busy over a rosebush.

"Will you?" inquired Mr. Vyner, very softly. "I believe that I could
learn better from you than from anybody; I should take more interest in
the work. One wants sympathy from a teacher."

Miss Hartley shook her head. "You had better try a three months' course
at Dale's Nurseries," she said, with a smile. "You would get more
sympathy from them than from me."

"I would sooner learn from you," persisted Robert.

"I could teach you all I know in half an hour," said the girl.

Mr. Vyner drew a little nearer to her. "You overestimate my powers," he
said, in a low voice. "You have no idea how dull I can be; I am sure it
would take at least six months."

"That settles it, then," said Joan. "I shouldn't like a dull pupil."

Mr. Vyner drew a little nearer still. "Perhaps--perhaps 'dull' isn't
quite the word," he said, musingly.

"It's not the word I should--" began Joan, and stopped suddenly.

"Thank you," murmured Mr. Vyner. "It's nice to be understood. What word
would you use?"

Miss Hartley, apparently interested in her father's movements, made no
reply.

"Painstaking?" suggested Mr. Vyner; "assiduous? attentive? devoted?"

Miss Hartley, walking toward the house, affected not to hear. 'A
fragrant smell of coffee, delicately blended with odour of grilled
bacon, came from the open door and turned his thoughts to more mundane
things. Mr. Hartley joined them just as the figure of Rosa appeared at
the door. "Breakfast is quite ready, miss," she announced.

She stood looking at them, and Mr. Vyner noticed an odd, strained
appearance about her left eye which he attributed to a cast. A closer
inspection made him almost certain that she was doing her best to wink.

"I laid for three, miss," she said, with great simplicity. "You didn't
say whether the gentleman was going to stop or not; and there's no harm
done if he don't."

Mr. Hartley started, and in a confused fashion murmured something that
sounded like an invitation; Mr. Vyner, in return murmuring something
about "goodness" and "not troubling them," promptly followed Joan
through the French windows of the small