"Oh," said Godwin, "I would have my wife meet me at different ports. I'd keep her lively. You bet I would. Don't disparage sailors, Miss Brendon. You'll send me into the blues if you do—" They were sitting down in the bracken at the foot of an old oak. Gentian leant her back against the gnarled trunk and looked up dreamily into the green foliage above. "A bird must be so happy," she observed. "It has command of the earth and air, and no one can prevent it soaring away from disagreeables when it chooses." "You ought to have no disagreeables in your life," said Godwin. "You want a husband to shoulder all difficulties, and keep you safe and happy." "I don't think men are fond of shouldering women's burdens," said Gentian reflectively; "when I go about in the village, and see how all the strain and work falls on the poor wife, who is on her feet from early morning to late at night, mending and making and cooking for her lord and master, as well as her children, it makes me feel that the man's lot in life is the comfortable one." "Yes, but in our class things are slightly different. Do you think I would let my wife slave for me? Never—" Then he put his hand softly over hers. "I would always joyfully shoulder your burdens for you. Don't you know that?" "But I haven't any," said Gentian, laughing as she quietly slipped her hand away. "Oh, look, isn't that a squirrel above us? The little darling! He has an acorn, I believe, in his paws." "I expect he has a nest up there. I'll just see." The squirrel had disappeared under a big branch. Godwin felt that the moment had not come for him, so he was willing to change the subject. In an instant he had thrown off his coat and sprung up on a low-lying branch. The old tree would have been easy for a child to climb, but he was quite unprepared to have Gentian following him. She was as agile as he, and when they failed to trace the squirrel's home, they sat astride a big branch and laughed at each other. "I haven't climbed trees for years," she said; "what fun it is. And how shocked Waddy would be if she were to see me!" "She's deep in 'The Times.' Thor has ungallantly left her—he's mooning round on his own—collecting beetles, I expect. He was always great on natural history." "Isn't it delicious to be off the ground? It's the nearest approach to a bird, sitting up here out of sight." A sudden gale of wind sprang up. Gentian's hat was off her head. In reaching out to catch it, she overbalanced herself and fell with a heavy thud upon the grass below. Godwin was down from the tree in a moment. "Are you hurt? Darling Gentian, speak!" "You needn't call me darling," murmured Gentian; "I am not dead yet." She sat up. No bones were broken, but she had a cut one side of her forehead, against a projecting bit of root in the ground, and it was bleeding profusely. Godwin was in an awful state of mind. He took out his handkerchief, and was in the act of binding it up when Thorold suddenly appeared.