"I am," recovering himself with a slight effort, for the swift change that had swept over Jean's expressive face at his unexpected appearance had set his heart to beating with unwonted emotion. "You will forgive me, will you not?" he finished, as he stood at her side and looked penitently down at her. "Why, yes, but I don't advise your making a practice of strolling into people's houses, and appearing suddenly in their drawing-rooms; you might be mistaken for a burglar, and I have heard," with a malicious little laugh, "that it is unpleasant to be shot." "Oh, come now, Miss Jean, you are very unfair to me; if you only knew the real facts of the case." But Jean was still a little resentful, for she felt that she had been taken at a disadvantage. "Really?" she answered incredulously, with a mischievous shrug of the shoulders. "Yes, very," he protested, with a glance of amusement into her upraised eyes. "I did everything I could to gain admission in the regulation way, but was quite unsuccessful." "What a shame," she said, interrupting him with softened voice. "I suppose the maids were all out in the garden for a stroll this fine night, and I was so absorbed in my book that I didn't hear the knocker." "And then," he resumed, with a valiant disregard of the truth, "I came in making as much ado as I conveniently could, without calling out or overturning the furniture." "Under the circumstances I see that you must be forgiven. Won't you be seated, Mr. Farr? I don't know what I have been thinking of, to allow you to remain standing all this while." "Thank you, no. On the other hand, I want to persuade you to arise." "Why?" "Because I am here on a mission. I have come to reproach you for not keeping your promise to join us at the parsonage." "And to whom am I indebted for this kind and flattering interest?" "None other than myself." "Oh, you are too good," she cried laughingly, springing to her feet, and making him a sweeping obeisance. "If that is your honest opinion, Miss Jean, suppose you prove it by going back with me." "I can't be a traitor to my words," and she tossed her book on to the table, and preceded him out into the hall-way. "Is it cool enough for a wrap?" Farr surveyed her muslin gown with a critical eye. "Indeed, it is." "All right," she yielded carelessly, "but I never take cold." She picked up a coat from the rack, and Farr helped her on with it, and then they wandered out into the night. "Is it not delicious?" Jean sighed, as they sauntered leisurely along. "It seems so to me," he returned, with a glance into the girl's eyes. "Miss Jean," he began, after a brief silence, "Did you not tell me once that there was a pretty walk through the shrubbery?" "Yes?" with a note of interrogation. "In which direction would it lead us, if we should take it now?" "To the parsonage, eventually, but," hesitatingly, "by a much longer way than by the path through the hedge." "The longer, the better--for me."