lly, and then coolly strolled
on toward it as if there was no one there. Mr. Sewall got up as I
approached.

"Don't rise," I said, and then as if I had dismissed all thought of him,
I turned away and fell to contemplating the panorama of stream and
meadow. Mr. Sewall could have withdrawn if he had desired. I made it
easy for him to pass unheeded behind me while I was contemplating the
view. However, he remained standing, looking at me.

"Don't let me disturb you," I repeated after a moment. "I've simply
come to see the view of the meadows."

"Oh, no disturbance," he exclaimed, "and say, if it's the view you're
keen on, take the seat."

"No, thank you," I replied.

"Go on, I've had enough. Take it. I don't want it."

"Oh, no," I repeated. "It's very kind, but no, thank you."

"Why not? I've had my fill of view. Upon my word, I was just going to
clear out anyway."

"Oh, were you?" That altered matters.

"Sure thing."

Then, "Thank you," I said, and went over and sat down.

Often under the cloak of just such innocent and ordinary phrases is
carried on a private code of rapid signs and signals as easily
understood by those who have been taught as dots and dashes by a
telegraphic operator. I couldn't honestly say whether it was Mr. Sewall
or I who gave the first signal, but at any rate the eyes of both of us
had said what convention would never allow to pass our lips. So I wasn't
surprised, as perhaps an outsider will be, when Mr. Sewall didn't raise
his hat, excuse himself, and leave me alone on the rustic seat, as he
should have done according to all rules of good form and etiquette.
Instead he remarked, "I beg your pardon, but haven't I met you before
somewhere?"

"Not that I know of," I replied icily, the manner of my glance, however,
belying the tone of my voice. "I don't recall you, that is. I'm not in
Hilton long at a time, so I doubt it."

"Oh, not in Hilton!" He scoffed at the idea. "Good Lord, no. Perhaps I'm
mistaken though. I suppose," he broke off, "you've been having tea up
there in the garden."

"I suppose so," I confessed, as if even the thought of it bored me.

He came over toward the bench. I knew it was his cool and audacious
intention to sit down. So I laid my parasol lengthwise beside me,
leaving the extreme corner vacant, by which I meant to say, "I'm
perfectly game, as you see, but I'm perfectly nice too, remember."

He smiled understandingly, and sat down four feet away from me. H