if they didn't give them these long classical names,
wouldn't it? I never was good at the classics, you know. Ah, here's
Marjory. Good-morning, child; how rosy and healthy you look, quite a
picture, and your dark hair makes a nice contrast with the other girls."

Marjory became rosier still, and sat down as much out of sight as
possible.

"Yes, as I was saying," continued Mrs. Forester, thoughtfully gazing at
a piece of toast, "he's been to Brazil, and Morocco, and Mexico, and
Alaska, and all the well-known places that it's proper to go to, and all
through the United States too. He must be a regular walking geography by
this time, if he doesn't forget it all on that dreadful voyage. One gets
so confused with those foreign places--at least I do; and really, by the
time I've crossed from Calais to Dover, I've gone through such terrors
of mind and body that I'm quite upset, and I can hardly remember what
I've seen or where I've been. That's where I think a guide-book such a
comfort. One can put a mark against each place one goes to, and that
makes it quite certain, you know. I wonder if Hilary has a guide-book.
But men are different, I suppose," she said, with a sigh of resignation
at the superiority of the sterner sex.

The girls slipped away as soon as they conveniently could. They had no
very definite plans for the day, and one suggestion after another was
made as they walked towards the park.

Herbert Morison soon joined them, and they continued to stroll somewhat
aimlessly through the park, the dogs at their heels. There seemed to be
a spirit of depression upon them that morning, which was a most unusual
experience for them.

"We miss Alan, don't we?" remarked Maud, after one of the awkward
silences which seemed inevitable that morning.

The other girls agreed, but Herbert said nothing, as he did not quite
see what difference a "kid" like Alan could make.

Suddenly Maud clapped her hands. "I know," she cried; "we'll all go on
the loch; it'll be just lovely." She had caught sight of the water
shining silvery blue through the trees, and certainly it did look
inviting. "Come on," cried Maud excitedly; "you'll take us, won't you,
Marj?"

Marjory reddened. "I'm sorry I can't. I promised uncle that I wouldn't
go on the loch to-day."

"What rubbish! Why, it's as calm as a mill pond."

"Not quite; there's a bit of a wind; besides, uncle said I wasn't to."

"We needn't sail; we could row," suggested Herbert.

"O