"There is General Villiers as well to vouch for my respectability." "Ah!"—with a smile. "Then you really will make use of us! I'll walk behind, if you would rather." Evelyn laughed. She found the proposal tempting, and could see no harm. "I don't think a rearguard will be needful," she said. "Thanks—if it really is not giving you trouble—" "Trouble!!" protested Jem. CHAPTER V. QUITE TOO UTTERLY. "A dim Ideal of tender grace In my soul reigned supreme; Too noble and too sweet, I thought, To live, save in a dream— Within thy heart to-day it lies, and looks on me from thy dear eyes." A. A. PROCTER. THE winding glen in its tangled beauty, far surpassed ordinary English types of scenery. It might almost have served for a Swiss ravine, but for the lack of enclosing mountains; and, indeed, the range of great hills, not many miles away, where the river had its birth, might not inaptly have been called "mountains," at least as an act of courtesy. Banks, rising on either side of the gorge to a height of two hundred feet and more, were carpeted thickly with moss, decked with ferns, and clothed with trees which descended to the very brink of the swirling stream, there to overhang its surface. The path led through a prolonged bower of foliage, occasional gleams of sunshine creeping through. Gnarled roots projected themselves fantastically; and large flat stones, now high and dry, showed the wash of the water in flood-time. Cyril grew timid at the nearness of the path to the steep lower bank. He slid his hand into Jean's, and she did not rebuff the appeal, for Jem had taught her a lesson. She put him on the side away from the stream, and held his fingers protectingly. Jem did not mark this. Usually he saw everything; but his whole attention was given to Evelyn. Her delight with the exquisite tints, the lights and shades of the gorge, was pretty as a study; and it meant more than a study to Jem. She did not use up a vocabulary of adjectives, but the closed lips parted, the violet eyes deepened, the blush-rose tint of her cheeks grew bright. She went slowly—it could not be too slowly for Jem!—devouring with earnest gaze every detail of light and shadow. Jem was enchained with the grace of her movements, the more remarkable from utter absence of self-consciousness. He had never come across any one like her before, though the girls he had known were in number legion. Still Evelyn said nothing till they reached a wilder part, less shut in. Trees grew scanty, and the rocks were steep and bare, while the stream rushed swiftly through a straitened bed, foaming past with a sweet high note. Then she did say "Oh!" and her eyes went in a swift appeal for sympathy to Jem. Not in the least because he was Jem, but only because in her joy she wanted a response from somebody.