ck upon it, and it seems so beautiful and far away that it
makes you miserable. You think how happy you were once. That is the
unfortunate side of being happy."

"Well," said he, "I must say you don't look forward to the future with
any great hope if you think the recollection of one bright day will make
you wretched."

He came down from his perch and stood beside her. "Why, Wenna," said he,
"do you know what you really need? Some one to take you in hand
thoroughly, and give you such an abundance of cheerful and pleasant days
that you would never think of singling out any one of them. Why
shouldn't you have weeks and months of happy idling in bright weather,
such as lots of people have who don't deserve them a bit? There's
something wrong in your position. You want some one to become your
master and compel you to make yourself happy. You won't of yourself
study your own comfort: some one else ought to make you."

"And who do you think would care to take so much trouble about me?" she
said with a smile, for she attached no serious meaning to this random
talk.

Her companion's face flushed somewhat--not with embarrassment, but with
the courage of what he was going to say. "I would," he said boldly. "You
will say it is none of my business, but I tell you I would give twenty
thousand pounds to-morrow if I were allowed to--to get you a whole
summer of pleasant holidays."

There was something about the plain-spoken honesty of this avowal that
touched her keenly. Wild and impossible as the suggestion was, it told
her at least what one person in the world thought of her. She said to
him, with her eyes cast down, "I like to hear you speak like that--not
for my own sake, but I know there is nothing generous and kindly that
you wouldn't do at a mere moment's impulse. But I hope you don't think I
have been grumbling over my lot on such a day as this? Oh no: I see too
much of other people's way of living to complain of my own. I have every
reason to be contented and happy."

"Yes, you're a deal too contented and happy," said he with an impatient
shrug. "You want somebody to alter all that, and see that you get more
to be contented and happy about."

She rose: he gave her his hand to help her up. But he did not surrender
her hand then, for the path up the slope was a deep and difficult one,
and she could fairly rely on his strength and sureness of foot.

"But you are not content, Mr. Trelyon," she said. "I always notice that