ss' about it, Miss May."

The girl jumped to her feet; for an instant she looked at the
philosopher. She opened her lips as if to speak, and at the thought of
what lay at her tongue's tip her face grew red. But the philosopher was
gazing past her, and his eyes rested in calm contemplation on the
gleaming paddock.

"A beautiful thing, sunshine, to be sure," said he.

Her blush faded away into paleness; her lips closed. Without speaking,
she turned and walked slowly away, her head drooping. The philosopher
heard the rustle of her skirt in the long grass of the orchard; he
watched her for a few moments.

"A pretty, graceful creature," said he, with a smile. Then he opened
his book, took his pencil in his hand, and slipped in a careful
forefinger to mark the fly-leaf.

The sun had passed mid-heaven and began to decline westward before he
finished the book. Then he stretched himself and looked at his watch.

"Good gracious, two o'clock! I shall be late for lunch!" and he hurried
to his feet.

He was very late for lunch.

"Everything's cold," wailed his hostess. "Where have you been, Mr.
Jerningham?"

"Only in the orchard--reading."

"And you've missed May!"

"Missed Miss May? How do you mean? I had a long talk with her this
morning-a most interesting talk."

"But you weren't here to say good-by. Now you don't mean to say that
you forgot that she was leaving by the two-o'clock train? What a man
you are!"

"Dear me! To think of my forgetting it!" said the philosopher,
shamefacedly.

"She told me to say good-bye to you for her."

"She's very kind. I can't forgive myself."

His hostess looked at him for a moment; then she sighed, and smiled,
and sighed again.

"Have you everything you want?" she asked.

"Everything, thank you," said he, sitting down opposite the cheese, and
propping his book (he thought he would just run through the last
chapter again) against the loaf; "everything in the world that I want,
thanks."

His hostess did not tell him that the girl had come in from the apple
orchard and run hastily upstairs, lest her friend should see what her
friend did see in her eyes. So that he had no suspicion at all that he
had received an offer of marriage-and refused it. And he did not refer
to anything of that sort when he paused once in his reading and
exclaimed:

"I'm really sorry I missed Miss May. That was an interesting case of
hers. But I gave the right answer; the girl ought to marry A."