Part 39 (2/2)

”Is it? Anyhow, I have been pitying all of you poor creatures broiling in the sun, looking at the water.”

”Ho, ho! Broiling in the sun?” laughed Jim. ”Why, you should just have seen that fellow George, for instance, lying on his back in the shadiest corner of the place, blowing clouds, and his rod nearly at the bottom of the water?”

The youth named grinned shyly and looked sheepish.

”How about going to look after the others?” suggested Jim, ever energetic and anxious to be moving. ”Do you feel inclined to venture, Miss Strange, or would you rather stay here?”

Now the fact was, Lilian had become a little tired of sitting still, and the proposal was rather a welcome one. She would fain have strolled away under the cool shade of the trees, but she had resisted her lover's longing entreaty to make one of the former party, on the ground of wis.h.i.+ng to rest, and now he would come back and find her away with Jim and the others, and perhaps be hurt. No; he should not. If she could not give him all he asked--namely, herself--at any rate she would show an unselfish regard for his feelings in everything else. It was a poor consolation, but this she could do, no matter what it cost herself; and this was only one out of a hundred little instances of the kind, all of which Claverton had seen, and, seeing, could have wors.h.i.+pped her. And yet, would it not make their parting a hundredfold more bitter when it came?

So unhesitatingly she answered: ”I think I'll stop here just at present.”

”That's right, Lilian,” said Mrs Brathwaite. ”I'm sure you oughtn't to go scrambling about all day. It'll be much better for you to wait till this afternoon, dear, when it's a little cooler.”

”Well, I shall go,” cried Jim. ”Come along, you fellows. Ethel, you'll come?”

”No, I won't.”

”What? Well, I didn't think you'd be so lazy!”

”Thank you, Mr Brathwaite,” said Lilian, with a quiet little laugh.

”That's one at me.”

”Oh, no; really not. It's different with you, you see, and--and--Hang it! I'd better clear out of this; it's getting too warm for me,” cried Jim, in mock helplessness.

”Well, I think you had,” laughed his mother. And he and young Garrett wandered off.

Soon the ramblers began to drop in, hot and tired, but in high spirits.

Luncheon was ready laid out.

”Oh, Ethel, you ought to have come with us! It's lovely down there!”

cried Gertie Wray, who, with Armitage, was the first to arrive.

”Yes? What _have_ you been doing to yourself?”

Following the direction of her glance, Gertie put both hands to her hat.

Her mischief-loving cavalier had amused himself by sticking the ends of several pieces of long gra.s.s into it, and these were standing out a yard above her head, nodding like plumes. There was a laugh at her expense.

”Oh, you horrid tease!” she cried, crus.h.i.+ng them up and throwing them at him.

”What? Why, 'pon my word it wasn't me! I didn't do it; it was Claverton.”

”Was it?” repeated she, indignantly. ”It was you. Mr Claverton never plays practical jokes, and you--”

”Oh!--h'm!--ah! I say--awfully sorry! Didn't know, really--have put my foot in it--must be more careful,” cried the mischievous dog, in tones of mock consternation.

”You're a perfect horror!” cried Gertie, laughing, and blus.h.i.+ng furiously. ”I declare I'll never speak to you again?”

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