the largest sighs that ever burst from a young-manly
bosom. I'm better now, thank you. In short, I feel that if I were to be
deprived of the fun of the voyage, it would blight a youth of heretofore
unusual promise.

"George Crayshaw, when he saw my dismay at the notion of leaving this
little island (into which, though you should penetrate to the very
centre, you could never escape the salt taste of the sea-air on your
lips), said he was ashamed of me. The next day, when I was furious
because he declared that we couldn't sail for three weeks on account of
packing the rubbish he has collected, he said so again. There is a great
want of variety in that citizen," &c.

Gladys was roused from her cogitations by hearing Valentine say--

"Sitting with your back to Barbara! You'll have to take some lessons in
manners before you go where they think that 'the proper study of mankind
is _wo_man.'"

"It was I who moved behind him," said Barbara, "to get out of the sun."

Crayshaw replied with a sweet smile and exceeding mildness of tone--

"Yes, I must begin to overhaul my manners at once. I must look out for
an advertisement that reads something like this:--

"'The undersigned begs to thank his friends and the public for their
continued patronage, and gives notice that gentlemen of neglected
education can take lessons of him as usual on his own premises, at
eightpence an hour, on the art of making offers to the fair sex.
N.B.--This course paid in advance.

"'Dummy ladies provided as large as life. Every gentleman brings a clean
white pocket-handkerchief, and goes down on his own knees when he learns
this exercise, Fancy styles extra.

"'Signed,

"'Valentine Melcombe.

"'References exchanged.'"

"You impudent young dog!" exclaimed Valentine, delighted with this
sally, and not at all sorry that Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer were out of
hearing--they having risen and strolled down to a lower portion of the
orchard.

Valentine was seated on a low garden-chair, and his young guests were
grouped about him on a Persian carpet which had been spread there.
Gladys was roused from her reverie by seeing Valentine snatch a piece of
paper from Crayshaw--peals of laughter following his pretended reading
of it.

"They actually think, those two, of having their poems printed," Barbara
had been saying.

"It would only cost about L30," said Crayshaw, excusing himself, "and
Mrs. Mortimer promised to subscribe for twenty copies. Why, Lord