elf," says Dicky Browne.

"He has had since this time yesterday to do it," says Sir Mark. "I
wonder if it takes long to cut one's throat."

"It entirely depends on whether you have sharpened your razor
sufficiently, and if you know _how_ to sharpen it. I should think a
fellow devoid of hirsute adornment would take a good while to it,"
returns Mr. Browne, with all the air of one who knows. "He wouldn't be
up to it, you know. But our late lamented Stephen was all right. He
shaved regular."

"He was at the lake yesterday," says Portia. "He came up to us from the
southern end of it."

At this both Dulce and Roger start, and the former changes color
visibly.

"I really wonder _where_ he can be," says Julia.

"So do I," murmurs Dulce, faintly, but distinctly, feeling she is in
duty bound to say something. "Stephen never used to miss a day."

"Here I am, if you want me," says Stephen, coming leisurely up to them
from between the laurels. "I thought I heard somebody mention my name."

He is looking pale and haggard, and altogether unlike the languid,
unemotional Stephen of a month ago. There are dark circles under his
eyes, and his mouth looks strangely compressed, and full of an
unpleasant amount of determination.

"I mentioned it," says Dulce. She is compelled to say this, because he
has fixed his eyes upon her, and plainly everybody expects her to reply
to him.

"Did you want me?" asks he, casting a scrutinizing glance upon her. So
absorbed is he in his contemplation of her that he has positively
forgotten the fact that he has omitted to bid any one a "fair
good-morrow."

"I was certainly wondering where you were," says Dulce, evasively. She
is frightened and subdued--she scarcely knows why. There is something
peculiar in his manner that overawes her.

"It was very good of you to remember my existence. Then you were only
wondering at my absence. You did not want me?"

Dulce makes no reply. She would have given anything to be able to make
some civil, commonplace rejoinder, but at this moment her wits cruelly
desert her.

"I see. Never mind," says Stephen. "Well, even if you don't want me, I
do want _you_--you will come with me as far as the Beeches?"

His tone is more a command than a question. Hearing it, Roger moves
involuntarily a step forward, that brings him nearer to Dulce. He even
puts out his hand as though to lay it upon her arm, when Stephen, by a
gesture, checks him.

"Don't be alarmed," he sa