departure excited no suspicion in the minds of their friends,
and most unsuspecting of all was the placid Mr. Dyceworthy, who, had he
imagined for an instant the direction which they were going, would
certainly not have discoursed on the pleasures of bee-keeping with the
calmness and placid conviction, that always distinguished him when
holding forth on any subject that was attractive to his mind. Leading
the way through his dewy, rose-grown garden, and conversing amicably as
he went, he escorted Macfarlane and Duprez to what he called with a
gentle humor his "Bee-Metropolis," while Errington and Lorimer returned
to the shore of the Fjord, where they had left their boat moored to a
small, clumsily constructed pier,--and entering it, they set themselves
to the oars and pulled away together with the long, steady, sweeping
stroke rendered famous by the exploits of the Oxford and Cambridge men.
After some twenty minutes' rowing, Lorimer looked up and spoke as he
drew his blade swiftly through the bright green water.

"I feel as though I were aiding and abetting you in some crime, Phil.
You know, my first impression of this business remains the same. You had
much better leave it alone."

"Why?" asked Errington coolly.

"Well, 'pon my life I don't know why. Except that, from long experience,
I have proved that it's always dangerous and troublesome to run after a
woman. Leave her to run after you--she'll do it fast enough."

"Wait till you see her. Besides, I'm not running after any woman,"
averred Philip with some heat.

"Oh, I beg your pardon--I forgot. She's not a woman; she's a Sun-angel.
You are rowing, not running, after a Sun-angel. Is that correct? I say,
don't drive through the water like that; you'll pull the boat round."

Errington slackened his speed and laughed. "It's only curiosity," he
said, lifting his hat, and pushing back the clustering dark-brown curls
from his brow. "I bet you that sleek Dyceworthy fellow meant the old
_bonde_ and his daughter, when he spoke of persons who were 'ejected'
from the social circles of Bosekop. Fancy Bosekop society presuming to
be particular--what an absurd idea!"

"My good fellow, don't pretend to be so deplorably ignorant! Surely you
know that a trumpery village or a two-penny town is much more choice and
exclusive in its 'sets' than a great city? I wouldn't live in a small
place for the world. Every inhabitant would know the cut of my clothes
by heart, and the number