"Oh no. Oswald says boys are never pretty; only brave. But I think men are pretty sometimes." "What do you find pretty in me? Eh?" Jean found response easy. "Your eyes are pretty," she said. "They look so funny. And your mouth is pretty, only you're getting a horrid moustache. And I like the way you do your hair. It's got a nice wave just on the forehead. And you laugh so often. Nobody's pretty that doesn't smile." "But Miss Evelyn Devereux smiles." "Oh, not like you." "What a pity Jean doesn't smile more!" "I shouldn't be pretty, anyhow." Jem could not contradict this. He patted her arm. "Never mind. You are a nice little girl, and I like you. What is to be your next step?" "Now? I'm going home to lessons." "Not holidays yet!" "I don't have holidays. I wish I could. Aunt Marie says they are such waste of time." "I'll see if I can't beg you off a day or two. Come along! Yes, this minute!" Jean's face of wondering delight was worth inspection. A passing question slid through Jem's mind—was she so plain, after all? But he did not trouble himself to answer the question. He was longing to get away from everybody, that he might dream over his new vision of beauty. Perhaps not many in his place would have voluntarily put aside the longing, to beg a treat for a child; and he half regretted his own offer the next instant, though he never thought of drawing back. Jem was essentially kind-hearted. Together they went to the Rectory; and Jem pleaded so successfully that four whole days were granted. This was Friday. Lessons should not begin again till the Thursday following. Jean heard in a maze of silent rapture. Five days of uninterrupted freedom, counting Sunday! Freedom to devote herself to Oswald! Jem did a good deal of walking and fishing those days; and a good deal more of dreaming. Whatever else he might have in hand, Evelyn was never out of his mind. He saw her each day, one way or another. Sometimes it was only a glimpse, of which Evelyn knew nothing. Once they met in the road, and had a little chat. Once General Villiers took him to the Brow for afternoon tea, and Jem was in her presence for an hour. It all meant to Evelyn—nothing. To Jem it meant—everything. CHAPTER VI. AN APPEAL AND ITS RESULTS. "And just because I was thrice as old, And our paths in the world diverged so wide, Each was nought to each, must I be told? We were fellow-mortals, nought beside?" R. BROWNING. "I CERTAINLY am surprised! I could not have expected such a want of correct feeling!" Miss Devereux spoke in tremulous accents, moving her hands nervously with a washing gesture, one over the other.