I complied with an extremely bad grace. It seemed to me I was always chosen for these messages. If Gerald didn’t like to come himself, why couldn’t he be left behind? I knew the others wouldn’t even wait for us; in fact, when I turned round, they had already begun to walk on slowly. I found Gerald busy with his music, and not looking in the least as if he intended to be anything else but busy with it all the afternoon. “The others are waiting,” I said, with sulky abruptness. “Are you ready?” He raised his head and his brown eyes rested on mine curiously. “They won’t wait very long,” he replied. “Do you really want to climb that ridiculous mountain?” I looked down sullenly. “Why not? We arranged to do so, didn’t we? Owen wants to.” “Let them go alone, then. They’ve begun to study botany. Katherine was examining things through a little lens all yesterday evening.” His drawling irony made me furious. “We must go,” I said, shortly. I knew well enough that he knew what was passing in my mind, and that I had been fighting against it for the last fortnight. He was the only one, I fondly imagined, who _did_ know, and I had begun to think that the spectacle of my jealousy was pleasing to him, and that he had his own delicate ways of encouraging it. He did not like Owen, yet, for some reason I could not fathom, he appeared to regard favourably his friendship with Katherine. That friendship had made astonishing strides in the past week or two. When we went anywhere together now, it was invariably Owen who was Katherine’s escort. Things seemed to arrange themselves naturally in that way, and this afternoon was no exception. It was not till I told him I would follow the others, and was leaving the room, that Gerald made up his mind to accompany me, and even then, about a quarter way up Slieve Donard, he announced that he had gone far enough and would wait here till they came down. Owen and Katherine were not in sight, for Gerald had made the ascent at the pace of the pilgrims in “Tannhäuser,” and I had had to keep with him. He stretched himself full length on the grass, and, as if it were an amusing question, asked me what I proposed doing. I did not know myself whether to wait with him here or to finish the climb. I stood hesitating, with a face like a thunder-cloud. “I suppose they’re at the top by this time,” said Gerald, casually, and his supposition decided me. I climbed up alone and full of bitter thoughts. Presently I saw Owen and Katherine far above me, but they never once looked back. I remembered that day, long ago it now seemed when Katherine and I had climbed the hill from the Bloody Bridge Valley, and how I had helped her over rough places, as I supposed Owen was helping her now, and walked hand in hand with her. When I reached the summit I saw them standing together under the lee of a huge gray rock, gazing seaward. They heard my approach and turned round.