She shook her head smilingly. “Good-bye,” she said. “Aren’t you going to let me see you again?” he asked dolefully. Again she shook her head. “I have had the offer of a new pool,” she said, “one with all modern improvements, and I think I shall move.” “But――now, look here, it isn’t fair! What am I to do? It’s evident you’ve never spent a holiday in Riverdell, or else you’d appreciate my plight. There’s nothing to do save paddle around on that idiotic little river. And every time I’m afraid the water will leak out when I’m not watching it and leave me high and dry. If only for charity, please let me come here and see you now and then――just for a moment! I’ll be very good, really; I’ll even agree to stay in the canoe and frizzle before your eyes!” “You speak,” she answered perplexedly, “as though I had invited you to come to Riverdell, or at least as though I were to blame for your remaining here!” He resisted the words that sprang to his lips. “I beg your pardon then. I wouldn’t for the world imply anything so absolutely criminal. But I am here and I am bored; and surely you haven’t so many excitements, so many engagements in the mornings but that you can spend a few moments communing with nature here at the pool? Of course, I don’t recommend myself as an excitement; perhaps I’m more of a narcotic; but I’ll do anything in my power to amuse you! I’ll――I’ll even tell you fairy stories or sing to you; and I’ve never done either in my life!” “That is indeed an inducement then,” she laughed. “But――good-bye.” “You won’t?” “Do you think it likely?” she asked a trifle haughtily. “Not when you look like that,” he answered dismally. “Good-bye,” she said again, moving away. “Good morning,” he answered. His eyes were on the ground where she had been sitting. He took a step forward. From there he watched her pass up the slope under the trees. At the last she turned back and looked regretfully at the pool shimmering in the noontide heat. “I shall be sorry to leave it,” she said softly, yet distinctly. “Perhaps――I shall change my mind.” Then she went on, passing from shadow to sunlight, until the trees hid her. When she was quite out of sight Ethan lighted a cigarette, smiling the while. Then he flicked aside the charred match, lifted his left foot, stooped and picked up a little white wad which, as he gently shook it out, became a dainty white handkerchief. He looked at it, held it to his nose, touched it to his lips, folded it carefully and clumsily and placed it in his pocket. Then he turned toward the pool and the canoe. [Illustration] “She’s a coquette,” he muttered, “an arrant coquette. But――but she’s simply――ripping!” VI. Ethan finished his second cigarette and tossed it hissing into the pool. The nearest swan immediately paddled over to investigate. Ethan sighed exasperatedly. [Illustration]