Roland paused for a moment, staggered. She was looking very lovely, in the neatest of cool walking-dresses, and the blood rose softly to the bewitching face as she met his astonished gaze. She had seen him long before he had caught sight of her, and half shyly, half mischievously had noted the effect of the surprise. But overhearing his last reflection, the glad look changed into one of concern. "What has happened, dear?" she began. Instead of immediately replying he gave a couple of quick looks around, and--a few seconds afterwards Olive was readjusting a somewhat displaced hat, a soft, bright blush suffusing her face. "There! I feel better now?" cried he who had treated her so unceremoniously, speaking with quick vehemence. "What has happened? Squalls--breakers--high seas--everything. To put it tersely, my venerable ancestor and I have been exchanging opinions of each other in terms far more forcible than polite." But Olive looked very grave. "Oh, Roland. Was it about--about--I mean anything to do with ourselves?" "H'm! H'm! Well, as to that, it was about things in general. But don't distress yourself, darling. It was bound to come sooner or later, and for some time past the South Cone has been hoisted on that particular coast. And now we have agreed to keep carefully out of each other's way henceforth." "But you'll make it up again, dear. People get in a rage with each other and quarrel, but it doesn't last for ever. It would be awful if it did." "But this will. Olive, you don't know him, and I'm afraid, darling, you don't half know me. He would have to sing very abjectly small indeed, before I could forgive what he said--certainly no consideration of loss or gain would induce me to do so. So here I stand--as here I came-- nobody." "You are everybody to me, love," she answered bravely and cheerfully. "All will come right one of these days, and even if not, we cannot do without each other, whatever we can do without." Sunshine after storm: balm to the wounded spirit. It is probable that, for the time being, all considerations were forgotten, except that they were alone together. The summer air breathed warm and free around them. Underfoot the grass, recently mown, was short and turfy, beneath the shade of the trees couched a few lazy, ruminating sheep, and the drowsy roll of a mill-wheel, with its accompanying drip-drip of water, was just audible, but everything was soft and slumbrous in the silent meadows. They were alone--and he who had just bartered away his splendid birthright for the love of this girl beside him, felt that he had his reward. He could hardly believe that not an hour had passed since that tornado scene of wrathful passion in yonder Hall, which they could just discern through the trees. "But, Olive, how on earth did you put in an appearance here just in the nick of time?" he asked presently.