ing party should make a little exploration. Here came frequent
opportunities when Grandcourt might have retained Gwendolen apart, and
have spoken to her unheard. But no! He indeed spoke to no one else, but
what he said was nothing more eager or intimate than it had been in
their first interview. He looked at her not less than usual; and some
of her defiant spirit having come back, she looked full at him in
return, not caring--rather preferring--that his eyes had no expression
in them.

But at last it seemed as if he entertained some contrivance. After they
had nearly made the tour of the grounds, the whole party stopped by the
pool to be amused with Fetch's accomplishment of bringing a water lily
to the bank like Cowper's spaniel Beau, and having been disappointed in
his first attempt insisted on his trying again.

Here Grandcourt, who stood with Gwendolen outside the group, turned
deliberately, and fixing his eyes on a knoll planted with American
shrubs, and having a winding path up it, said languidly--

"This is a bore. Shall we go up there?"

"Oh, certainly--since we are exploring," said Gwendolen. She was rather
pleased, and yet afraid.

The path was too narrow for him to offer his arm, and they walked up in
silence. When they were on the bit of platform at the summit,
Grandcourt said--

"There is nothing to be seen here: the thing was not worth climbing."

How was it that Gwendolen did not laugh? She was perfectly silent,
holding up the folds of her robe like a statue, and giving a harder
grasp to the handle of her whip, which she had snatched up
automatically with her hat when they had first set off.

"What sort of a place do you prefer?" said Grandcourt.

"Different places are agreeable in their way. On the whole, I think, I
prefer places that are open and cheerful. I am not fond of anything
sombre."

"Your place of Offendene is too sombre."

"It is, rather."

"You will not remain there long, I hope."

"Oh, yes, I think so. Mamma likes to be near her sister."

Silence for a short space.

"It is not to be supposed that _you_ will always live there, though
Mrs. Davilow may."

"I don't know. We women can't go in search of adventures--to find out
the North-West Passage or the source of the Nile, or to hunt tigers in
the East. We must stay where we grow, or where the gardeners like to
transplant us. We are brought up like the flowers, to look as pretty as
we can, and be dull without complaining. T