e might know whether man or beast or bird was
attracting the watcher's notice. He had pointed out the trustful
little twite, which I should have mistaken for a linnet, and followed
it to its abode, where he told us we should find a single feather stuck
conspicuously in the edge of the nest; and it had been even so. Our
botanical knowledge would have been greatly increased if we had
remembered all he told us, but though we did not do so we were deeply
interested, for he had none of the air of the schoolmaster, and he did
not expect us to take our lessons very seriously.

And now the day was spent, and our energy, though not our spirits, had
flagged considerably. We were sitting on the edge of the moor, a mile
or so away from home, and the flush of evening spread over the valley
and the distant hills, turning the landscape into mystery. The lamp of
the setting sun was flickering out in the west, but the handmaidens of
the night had lit their tiny torches here and there, and they shone
faintly behind the veil of twilight, giving promise of greater radiance
when the time should come for them to go forth to meet the crescent
bride who tarried in her coming.

I was gazing on it dreamily, and breathing out peace and goodwill
towards men when Rose dropped her bomb, and shattered my complacency.

"What makes you call me the Cynic?" He turned his eyes upon me and
awaited my answer with evident curiosity.

I looked at him in my turn. He had been bareheaded all day, for he had
left his hat at the Hall, and he was now leaning back against a rock,
his hands clasped behind his head, and the mischievous look I have so
often noticed sparkling in his eyes. He really is rather a fine man,
and he has certainly a good strong face. I replied, calmly enough to
outward seeming:

"Because it has seemed to me an apt description."

"I hope not," he replied. "Cynicism is the small change of shallow
minds. All the same, it is interesting to be criticised. I did not
know when I offered to analyse your character that I was being
subjected to the same test."

"Indeed you were not," I protested; "it was an appellation that came to
me spontaneously whilst you were discoursing so luminously on woman a
few months ago, and it is not to be taken seriously. It was wicked of
Rose to tell you."

Rose laughed and put an arm around me. "Never mind, old girl," she
said, "I'm going back to-morrow, so you must forgive me."

"I'm afraid you h