women bothered and made a noise, so I advised
them to proceed in the direction of Jericho. Great place, Jericho! They
went--there or elsewhere. Don't get up yet, please don't! it's always
better to lie still after a fire, or a faint; how much more after both
combined!"

"Oh, I must!" said Margaret. "I must go home at once, Mr. Merryweather,
truly. Oh, thank you, but I can get up perfectly well--only my head is
queer still. I wish--why did you send Jean away?"

"I didn't want her," said Gerald, meekly. "You looked so pretty--"

"Please don't talk nonsense!"

"I'm not. It's my truthful nature. It comes out in spots, like measles,
in spite of me. When I was only six years old, I told my nurse she was a
hideous old squunt, and she was. Fact, or at least justifiable fiction.
If you must get up, won't you take poor Jerry's arm? just once, before
he drowns himself? it's your last chance!"

"What _do_ you mean? Why should you drown yourself?"

"Because I missed all the fun, and let you faint, and Miss Wolfe get
nearly burned up, and Miss Peggy a sight to behold with smoke and
water, and Hugh all tied up in t l k's, and all for a day's yachting.
Not that it wasn't great yachting, but there is a sense of proportion."

"What are t l k's?" asked Margaret, smiling faintly. She was recovering
her composure, and Gerald noted with inward thankfulness her returning
color. His running fire of nonsense, kept up in the hope of rousing her
to interest, covered an anxious heart, but he gave no sign.

"T l k's? true lover's knots! none of my business, of course, but the professor
appears to be interested in the fairacrobat--acrobatess--acrobatia--what
you will! Give you my word, when he came round the corner and saw her
coming down that rope, I thought he would curl up into knots himself.
Jolly stunt! when I first came I was awfully afraid--" Gerald pulled
himself up suddenly, and blushed scarlet.

"Afraid?" said Margaret, innocently. "Afraid of what?"

"Of bats! When they squeak, I desire to pass away."

"Mr. Merryweather!"

"If you call me Mr. Merryweather any more, I _shall_ pass away, without
benefit of buckets. Say Gerald! just try it, and see how pretty it
sounds. Gerald! 'tis a melting mouthful! Sentimental, if you will, but
what then?"

Margaret laughed in spite of herself. "I must say, as Frances did, I
never see such a bold boy since born I was!" she said. "Well, Gerald,
then; and now, Gerald, here we are at the house