on such a day as this. But men do not remember
little things like these as women do.

I heard the click of the gate at last, and, looking round the great
trunk of the tree, I saw them come in together, Dr. John and Martin. He
had kept his promise then! Minima was gone out somewhere with Dr.
Senior, or she would have run to meet them, and so brought them to the
place where I was half-hidden.

However, they might see my dress if they chose. They ought to see it. I
was not going to stand up and show myself. If they were anxious to find
me, and come to me, it was quite simple enough.

But my heart sank when Martin marched straight on, and entered the house
alone, while Dr. John came as direct as an arrow toward me. They knew I
was there, then! Yet Martin avoided me, and left his friend to chatter
and laugh the time away. I was in no mood for laughing; I could rather
have wept bitter tears of vexation and disappointment. But Dr. John was
near enough now for me to discern a singular gravity upon his usually
gay face.

"Is there any thing the matter?" I exclaimed, starting to my feet and
hastening to meet him. He led me back again silently to my seat, and sat
down beside me, still in silence. Strange conduct in Dr. John!

"Tell me what is the matter," I said, not doubting now that there was
some trouble at hand. Dr. John's face flushed, and he threw his hat down
on the grass, and pushed his hair back from his forehead. Then he laid
his hand upon mine, for a moment only.

"Olivia," he said, very seriously, "do you love me?"

The question came upon me like a shock from a galvanic battery. He and I
had been very frank and friendly together; a pleasant friendship, which
had seemed to me as safe as that of a brother. Besides, he knew all that
Martin had done and borne for my sake. With my disappointment there was
mingled a feeling of indignation against his treachery toward his
friend. I sat watching the glistening of the water through the pillars
of the parapet till my eyes were dazzled.

"I scarcely understand what you say," I answered, after a long pause;
"you know I care for you all. If you mean, do I love you as I love your
father and Monsieur Laurentie, why, yes, I do."

"Very good, Olivia," he said.

That was so odd of him, that I turned and looked steadily into his face.
It was not half as grave as before, and there was a twinkle in his eyes
as if another half minute would make him as gay and light-hearted as
ev