as directed, with goodwill towards her at my heart. I was
burning with shame. Was I bold and immodest with men, as accused of
being? It was the last indiscretion I would intentionally have been
guilty of. In associating with men I never realize that the trifling
difference of sex is sufficient to be a great wall between us. The fact
of sex never for an instant enters my head, and I find it as easy to be
chummy with men as with girls: men in return have always been very good,
and have treated me in the same way.

On returning from her walk grannie came to my room, brought me some
preachy books to read, and held out to me the privilege of saying I was
sorry, and being restored to my usual place in the society of the
household.

"Grannie, I cannot say I am sorry and promise to reform, for my
conscience does not reproach me in the least. I had no evil--not even a
violation of manners--in my intentions; but I am sorry that I vexed you,"
I said.

"Vexing me is not the sinful part of it. It is your unrepentant heart
that fills me with fears for your future. I will leave you here to think
by yourself. The only redeeming point about you is, you do not pretend to
be sorry when you are not."

The dear old lady shook her head sorrowfully as she departed.

The afternoon soon ran away, as I turned to my bookcase for entertainment
and had that beautiful ring to admire.

I heard them come in to tea, and I thought Harold had gone till I heard
uncle Jay-Jay address him:

"Joe Archer told me you ran into a clothes-line on race-night, and ever
since then mother has kept up a daddy of a fuss about ours. We've got
props about a hundred feet long, and if you weren't in the know you'd
think we had a telegraph wire to old St Peter up above."

I wondered what Harold thought of the woman he had selected as his future
wife being shut up for being a "naughty girl". The situation amused me
exceedingly.

About nine o'clock he knocked at my window and said:

"Never mind, Syb. I tried to get you off, but it was no go. Old people
often have troublesome straitlaced ideas. It will blow over by tomorrow."

I did not answer; so he passed on with firm regular footfall, and
presently I heard his horse's hoof-beats dying away in the darkness, and
the closing and locking of doors around me as the household retired for
the night.

During the following fortnight I saw Harold a good many times at
cricket-matches' hare-drives, and so forth, but he d