“You always say that, yet you know he chafes and is unhappy at being dependent on you. Mamma and I don’t mind; but he is a man, and it frets him. He said he’d take matters into his own hands soon, and then you may be sorry you were so slow in helping him.” “Miss Muir is looking out of the window. You’d better go and take your run, else she will scold.” “Not she. I’m not a bit afraid of her, she’s so gentle and sweet. I’m fond of her already. You’ll get as brown as Ned, lying here in the sun. By the way, Miss Muir agrees with me in thinking him handsomer than you.” “I admire her taste and quite agree with her.” “She said he was manly, and that was more attractive than beauty in a man. She does express things so nicely. Now I’m off.” And away danced Bella, humming the burden of Miss Muir’s sweetest song. “‘Energy is more attractive than beauty in a man.’ She is right, but how the deuce _can_ a man be energetic, with nothing to expend his energies upon?” mused Coventry, with his hat over his eyes. A few moments later, the sweep of a dress caught his ear. Without stirring, a sidelong glance showed him Miss Muir coming across the terrace, as if to join Bella. Two stone steps led down to the lawn. He lay near them, and Miss Muir did not see him till close upon him. She started and slipped on the last step, recovered herself, and glided on, with a glance of unmistakable contempt as she passed the recumbent figure of the apparent sleeper. Several things in Bella’s report had nettled him, but this look made him angry, though he would not own it, even to himself. “Gerald, come here, quick!” presently called Bella, from the rustic seat where she stood beside her governess, who sat with her hand over her face as if in pain. Gathering himself up, Coventry slowly obeyed, but involuntarily quickened his pace as he heard Miss Muir say, “Don’t call him; _he_ can do nothing”; for the emphasis on the word “he” was very significant. “What is it, Bella?” he asked, looking rather wider awake than usual. “You startled Miss Muir and made her turn her ankle. Now help her to the house, for she is in great pain; and don’t lie there anymore to frighten people like a snake in the grass,” said his sister petulantly. “I beg your pardon. Will you allow me?” And Coventry offered his arm. Miss Muir looked up with the expression which annoyed him and answered coldly, “Thank you, Miss Bella will do as well.” “Permit me to doubt that.” And with a gesture too decided to be resisted, Coventry drew her arm through his and led her into the house. She submitted quietly, said the pain would soon be over, and when settled on the couch in Bella’s room dismissed him with the briefest thanks. Considering the unwonted exertion he had made, he thought she might have been a little more grateful, and went away to Lucia, who always brightened when he came.