hey must be hit upon
unexpectedly."

"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some
people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had
risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up
through the white branches.

Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting
on to seventy in thirty years."

A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down
upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning
that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it
human creatures were talking about thirty years!

XXI

CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT

That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely
mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining
afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.
Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each
other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which
they had not confided to him.

"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of
course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.
Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as
well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,
before he fell in love."

Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him
feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all
the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private
preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired
result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even
success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to
work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither
Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's
peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how
the land lay.

"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.

"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The
Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.

"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar
returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless
summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill
Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in
adva