e lawn, came upon Lady Pickering seated romantically upon
a stone, her head in her hands. She said, looking up at them, with
pathetic eyes of suffering, that she had wrenched her ankle and was in
agony. 'I think it is sprained, perhaps broken,' she said.

Now both Althea and Gerald felt convinced that she was not in agony, and
had perhaps not hurt her ankle at all. They were both a little
embarrassed and a little ashamed for her.

'Take my arm, take Miss Jakes's,' said Gerald. 'We will help you back to
the house.'

'Oh no. I must sit still for a little while,' said Lady Pickering.' I
couldn't bear to stir yet. It must be only a wrench; yes, there, I can
feel that it is a bad wrench. It's only that the pain has been so
horrible, and I feel a little faint. Please sit down here for a moment,
Gerald, beside me, and console me for my sufferings.'

It was really very shameless. Without a word Althea walked away.

'Miss Jakes--we'll--I'll follow in a moment,' Gerald called after her,
while, irritated and at a loss, he stood over Lady Pickering. 'Have you
really hurt it?' was his first inquiry, as Althea disappeared.

'Why does she go?' Lady Pickering inquired. 'I didn't mean that she was
to go. Stiff, _guindee_ little person. One would really think that she
was jealous of me.'

'No, I don't think that one would think that at all,' Gerald returned.

Lady Pickering was pushed beyond the bounds of calculation, and when
quite sincere she was really charming. 'O Gerald,' she said, looking up
at him and full of roguish contrition, 'how unkind you are! And how
horribly clear sighted. It's I who am jealous! Yes, I really am. I can't
bear being neglected.'

'I don't see why you should,' said Gerald laughing, 'and I certainly
shouldn't show such bad taste as to neglect you. So that it is jealousy,
pure and simple. Is your ankle in the least hurt?'

'Really, I don't know. I did tumble a little, and then I saw you coming,
and felt that I wanted to be talked to, that it was my turn.'

'What an absurd woman you are.'

'But do say that you like absurd women better than solemn ones.'

'I shall say nothing of the sort. Sometimes absurdity is delightful, and
sometimes solemnity--not that I find Miss Jakes in the least solemn. It
would do you a world of good to let her inform your mind a little.'

'Oh, please, I don't want to be informed, it might make my back look
like that. My foot really is a little hurt, you know. Is it swolle