it is not an
invention of the devil. Is anything the matter, Howard? You look as if
things had gone wrong. You don't mind that nonsense of Guthrie's, do
you? I was an ass to get him to do it; I hate doing a stupid thing, and
he is simply wild with me. It's no good saying it is not like, because
it is in a way, but of course it's only a rag. It isn't absurd when you
do it, only when someone else does."

"Oh no, I don't mind about that," said Howard; "do make that plain to
Guthrie. I am out of sorts, I think; one gets bothered, you know--what
is called the blues."

"Oh, I know," said Jack sympathetically; "I don't suffer from them
myself as a rule, but I have got a touch of them to-day. I can't
understand what everyone is up to. Fred Guthrie has got the jumps. It
looks to me," he went on sagely, "as if he was what is commonly called
in love: but when the other person is one's sister, it seems strange.
Maud isn't a bad girl, as they go, but she isn't an angel, and still
less a saint; but Fred has no eyes for anyone else; I can't screw a
sensible word out of him. These young people!" said Jack with a sour
grimace; "you and I know better. One ought to leave the women alone;
there's something queer about them; you never know where you are with
them."

Howard regarded him in silence for a moment: it did not seem worth
while to argue; nothing seemed worth while. "Where are they?" he said
drearily.

"Oh, goodness knows!" said Jack; "when I last saw them he was beating
down the ferns with a stick for Maud to go through. He's absolutely
demented, and she is at one of her games. I think I shall sheer off,
and go to visit some sick people, like the governor; that's about all I
feel up to."

At this moment, however, the truants appeared, walking silently out of
a glade. Howard had an obscure feeling that something serious had
happened--he did not know what. Guthrie looked dejected, and Maud was
evidently preoccupied. "Oh, damn the whole show!" said Jack, getting
up. "Let's get out of this!"

"We lost our way," said Maud, rather hurriedly, "and couldn't find our
way back."

Maud went up to Miss Merry, asked to see her sketch, and indulged in
some very intemperate praise. Guthrie came up to Howard, and stammered
through an apology for his rudeness.

"Oh, don't say anything more," said Howard. "Of course I didn't mind!
It really doesn't matter at all."

The day was beginning to decline; and in an awkward silence, only
brok