“Oh, it’s perfect!” he said with a sigh. “Yes, it’s very lovely, isn’t it? I’ve never known any other garden, and now you don’t know how nice it is to have some one to show it to. I’ve never had anyone to show it to before.” The old house looked lovely from the garden. Its walls bulged towards them in curious curves and angles, it seemed to hang over the lawn like a protecting deity. The light of the sun caught its windows and they flamed red and gold. “You like having me to show it to?” he said. “Of course,” she answered. They were both suddenly uncomfortable. Everything around and about them seemed charged with intensest meaning. They began, each of them, to be more uncertain about the other. Perhaps after all they had read the signs wrongly. Janet suddenly reflected that she had known no other young men, and, after all, they might all have that habit of smiling and looking pleasant. It might be merely politeness, and probably meant nothing at all. She had been much too hasty; she took a stolen glance at him and fancied that he looked as though he were a little bored. “It’s much nicer,” she said a little coldly, “in the summer than the winter.” He looked at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “I say,” he said, “don’t let’s start being polite to each other, we’re friends. You know we made a compact the other day. We’ve got such a lot to talk about that we mustn’t waste time.” “Oh! I’m so glad,” she sighed with relief; “you see I know so few people that I didn’t a bit know whether I was doing the right sort of thing. You looked a very little bit as though you were bored.” “By Jove!” he said. “I should think not. Do you know, it’s the rippingest thing in the world coming and talking to you, and I’d been wondering ever since last time how soon it would be before I could come and talk to you again. And now, if you like my coming, it’s simply splendid.” “Well, please come often,” she said, smiling. “I haven’t got many friends, and we seem to think the same about such lots of things.” “Well, I love this place and this garden and everything, and I expect that I shall come often.” “Oh! I think you’re wonderful!” she said. “No, please don’t.” He bent towards her and touched her hand. “That’s only because you haven’t seen other people much. I’m most awfully ordinary, quite a commonplace sort of chap. I’d be awfully sick with myself really if I had time to think about it, but there’s such a lot going on that one simply can’t bother. But you’ll do me a lot of good if you’ll let me come.” “_I!_” She opened her eyes wide. “How funny you are! I’m no use to anybody.” “We’re both most fearfully modest,” he said, smiling, “and when people say how rotten they are they generally mean just the opposite. But I don’t, really. I mean it absolutely.” Then he lowered his voice. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” “Yes,” she said, very softly. “Always?” “Yes, always.”