now already," said Malcourt.

"Well, who had the nerve to--"

"None of your bally business, dear friend. Are you riding over to
Pride's to-day?"

"Yes, I am."

"I think I'll go, too."

"You're not expected."

"That's the charm of it, old fellow. I didn't expect to go; they don't
expect me; they don't want me; I want to go! All the elements of a
delightful surprise, do you notice?"

Portlaw said, irritably: "They asked Mrs. Malcourt and me. Nothing was
said about you."

"Something will be said if I go," observed Malcourt cheerfully.

Portlaw was exasperated. "There's a girl there you behaved badly to.
You'd better stay away."

Malcourt looked innocently surprised.

"Now, who could that be! I have, it is true, at times, misbehaved, but I
can't ever remember behaving badly--"

Portlaw, too mad to speak, strode wrathfully away toward the stables.

Malcourt was interested to see that he could stride now without
waddling.

"Marvellous, marvellous!--the power of love!" he mused sentimentally;
"Porty is no longer rotund--only majestically portly. See where he
hastens lightly to his Alida!

"Shepherd fair and maidens all--
Too-ri-looral!
Too-ri-looral!"

And, very gracefully, he sketched a step or two in contra-dance to his
own shadow on the grass.

"Shepherd fair and maidens all--
Truly rural,
Too-ri-looral,
Man prefers his maidens plural;
One is none, he wants them all!
Too-ri-looral!
Too-ri-looral--"

And he sauntered off humming gaily, making playful passes at the trees
with his riding-crop as he passed.

Later he aided his wife to mount and stood looking after her as she rode
away, Portlaw pounding along heavily beside her.

"All alone with the daisies," he said, looking around him when they had
disappeared.

Toward noon he ordered a horse, ate his luncheon in leisurely solitude,
read yesterday's papers while he smoked, then went out, mounted, and
took the road to Pride's Fall, letting his horse choose his own pace.

Moving along through the pretty forest road, he glanced casually right
and left as he advanced, tapping his riding-boots in rhythm to the air
he was humming in a careless undertone--something about a shepherd and
the plural tastes of man.

His mood was inspired by that odd merriment which came from sheer
perversity. When the depths and shallows of his contradictory character
were disturbed a ripple of what passed for mirth covered all