ed in the social world.

And he was behaving so well, too! taking part in the conversation, even
telling stories and capping anecdotes of his own accord, and behaving
quite amiably to Ralph. Darsie beamed approval on him from the end of
the table, and deliberately singled him out as her companion for the
after-breakfast stroll.

"Come down to the river, Dan! There's a tree with the most convenient
forked branch where one can sit hidden by the leaves and watch the
canaders come up. Last year I heard some quite thrilling fragments of
conversation."

"I'll be wary of that tree," said Dan solemnly, but he helped Darsie to
her eyrie, and swung himself up beside her with an alacrity which showed
that the suggestion fell in well with his own wishes, and there they sat
like birds in a nest, smiling at each other with bright, friendly
glances.

"Isn't this fine? No one saw us come, did they? They'll think we're
lost. I'm tired of being polite. Thank you for coming to my party,
Dan, and for being so jolly."

"Thank you for asking me and for looking so--ripping!" Dan cast an
appreciative glance at the white dress and blossom-wreathed hat. "Glad
to see you're not knocking yourself up with too much work."

Darsie bent her head with a dubious air.

She wished to look well, but, on the other hand, a little sympathy would
not have been unwelcome. "I'm excited this morning, and that gives me a
colour," she explained. "If you could see me at the end of the day--I'm
so weak in my mediaeval French Grammar. It haunts me at night--"

"Stop!" cried Dan warningly. "Don't let it haunt you here, at any
rate--it would be a crime among this blossom. Tell me a story as you
used to do in the old schoolroom days. I haven't heard you tell a story
since that Christmas night when we all sat round the fire and burnt fir-
cones, and the light shone on your face. You wore a white dress then.
You looked _all_ white."

"And you sat in the corner and glowered--I could see nothing, but I
_felt_ eyes. That will be one of the times we shall remember, Dan, when
we look back on our young days--all together, and so happy and free. I
had a melancholy turn during that cone-burning, one of the shadows that
fall upon one causelessly in the midst of the sunshine, but that was
only a bit of the happiness, after all. It's rather wonderful to be
twenty, Dan, and never to have known a real big sorrow! Most of the
girls here have come through s