"Not really?" he exclaimed, only half-interrogatively, but with a change of colour. "But then--well--I don't suppose you mean anything particular by that," he added, to comfort himself. "You don't mean that you--" He stopped. Fanny nodded slowly, and the blush that rose in her face reddened her sunny complexion. "Yes. That's what I mean. I cared for him, you know,--that sort of thing." "It hasn't taken you long to get over it, at all events," answered Lawrence, gravely, and wondering inwardly why she made the extraordinary confession, seeing that it hurt him and could do her no good. "No--it hasn't taken long, has it? That's what frightens me. If I weren't frightened, I shouldn't talk to you about it." "I don't understand--why are you frightened? Especially since you've got over it. I don't see--" "I thought you might," said Fanny, enigmatically. A long silence followed, this time. Lawrence crossed his hands on his knees as Fanny was doing, holding his pipe, which was going out. They both sat staring at the opposite bank of the brook. The vital loveliness of the still woods was all around them, whispering in their young ears, breathing into their young nostrils the breath of nature's life, caressing them with bountiful warmth. They sat side by side, very near, staring at the opposite bank, and for a long time no words passed their lips. At last the young girl spoke in a low and almost monotonous tone. "He has an influence over people who come near him," she said. "Besides, that kind of man appeals to me. It's natural, isn't it? I'm so fond of all sorts of things out-of-doors, that I can't help admiring a man who can do everything so well. And he's a splendid creature. You've never seen him ride. You don't know--it's wonderful! I wish you could see him on that thoroughbred Teddy Van De Water has brought up this summer--Teddy's a good rider, but he can't do anything with the mare. You ought to see Brinsley--Mr. Brinsley--you'd understand better." "But I understand perfectly, as it is," said Lawrence, rather gloomily. "Do you? I wonder whether you really do. Do you think there's any--any excuse for me?" The words were spoken in a faltering shamefaced way very unlike Fanny's usual manner. "As though you needed any excuse for taking a fancy to any one who pleases you!" answered Lawrence, rather coldly. "Aren't you perfectly free to like anybody who turns up?" During the pause which followed, he slowly relighted his pipe, which had quite gone out by this time. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand," said Fanny, in a disappointed tone. "But I do--" "No--not what I mean. I hate explaining things, but I shall have to." Louis Lawrence wondered vaguely what there could be to explain, and, if there were anything, why she should be so anxious to explain to him in particular. CHAPTER VIII.