and
certainly adventurous. Every young fellow of spirit longs for money in
his pocket to see the world, and at the worst Patsy would be well away
from the neighbourhood of Stair Garland.

Then the next moment Louis was ashamed of his thought and strove to make
amends.

"I wonder what will become of Stair if you go," he said. "I am afraid he
will go the pace wilder than ever, and as like as not get into bad
trouble."

"Before I go I shall speak to Stair myself," said Patsy with great
determination. "He shot a prince of the blood for my sake; perhaps I can
make him keep the peace for the same reason. At least for a while."

At this Louis sulked a little, so little indeed that no one but Patsy
could have noticed. But she was down upon him like a hawk on a field
mouse.

"See here," said Patsy, "this is no stock-in-trade to start out on. You
sulk at the first mention of a man's name. I shall see hundreds in
London. You will see as many women. I am only a little country girl
staying with a great Princess, while you will be the heir to an earldom,
besides having all the prestige of the uniform. Oh, I shall like that
part of it myself, I don't deny. But I am not going to have you sulking
because I speak to this man or dance with that man, or even tell you
that I like one man better than another."

She paused, but Louis did not speak. So Patsy, after a long look at him,
continued. "I don't know yet whether I love you as you mean, Louis
Raincy--or whether I shall ever love any man. Certainly I am not going
to cry about you or about anybody. I like you--yes--I like you better
than any one I know except Uncle Julian, but not a bit like the lovers
in books. So I suppose I am not in love. I would not have you climbing
balconies or singing ditties in boats for half this country. I should
want to be in bed and asleep. Some day, maybe, I shall love a man, and
then I shall love him for take and have and keep. But it has just got to
happen, Louis--and if it comes for somebody else, why, I rather think it
will be so much the better for you. Come now, it is time to go home.
Shake hands, and be friends--no, sir, nothing else. Wait a good quarter
of an hour after I am gone. We don't know what is before either of us,
but if you are going to whimper about what we can't help--I am not!"

She jumped on the first branches of the larch, still holding Louis's
hand. As she let go she took a handful of his clustering curls and gave
a cheerful