And then, above the wall, she saw the face of Rudolph. “Oh!” cried Mabin, with a little fluttering of the heart. “I--I thought you had gone back to your ship!” “Why, so I had,” replied Rudolph, raising himself so that she had a view of his shoulders as well as of his head. “But I’ve come back again, you see.” “I can guess what brought you!” said Mabin, wishing the next moment that she had not uttered the words. Rudolph took her up quickly. “Can you? Well then, what was it?” Mabin blushed scarlet. Of course the thought that was in her mind that the charms of the fascinating widow had drawn him to Stone. And just the least little twinge of nascent jealousy had given a sting of pique to her tone. But she would not for the world have owned to this; and the mere thought that he might have guessed it was misery. As she did not answer, Rudolph shook his head. “I don’t think you are quite as clever as you suppose,” he said. “And I don’t choose to tell you what brought me back. But I may just warn you that you are likely to get tired of the sight of me before I do go away altogether, as I can get as much leave as I like while my ship is at Portsmouth. Rather alarming prospect, isn’t it?” “You will get tired of being on shore, won’t you?” asked Mabin, not feeling equal to answering him in his own tone, which was what her parents and the Vicarage people would have called “flippant.” “That depends,” said Rudolph, looking down with interest at the dried-up blossoms of the lilac trees. Mabin glanced at him, and began to hope nervously that she might not see too much of him. She had never seen a man whom she considered so handsome as this brown-faced young lieutenant with the merry black eyes, who made her feel so ridiculously shy and stiff. And the very attraction he had for her seemed to the simple young girl alarming, since she raised him in her maiden fancy to a pinnacle from which such a peerless creature could never descend to her. In spite of herself her tone sounded cold and constrained, therefore, as she cut short the pause in the conversation by asking if they were all well at the Vicarage. “Quite well, thank you,” answered Rudolph demurely. “I suppose that kind inquiry is meant for a snub, isn’t it? And intended to imply that I ought not to have addressed you in this informal manner over the wall, but that I ought to have called in the proper manner at the other side of the house?” “It wasn’t meant to imply that,” replied Mabin with solemn straightforwardness. “Only I wanted to say something, and I had nothing better to say. I must tell you that everybody says that I have no conversation.” “People allow you very few good points, according to your account.” “Quite as many as I have, though!” “Well, at least, then you have one merit of unusual modesty.” Mabin looked up at him steadily and frankly.