'Certainly. Coming no doubt to give you a lesson. But where are your sketching things?' Nelly rose in a hurry. 'I forgot about them when I came out. The telegram--' She pressed her hands to her eyes, with a long breath. 'I'll run back for them. Will you tell him?' She departed, and Hester awaited her cousin. He came slowly along the lake, his slight lameness just visible in his gait--otherwise a splendid figure of a man, with a bare head, bearded and curled, like a Viking in a drawing by William Morris. He carried various artist's gear slung about him, and an alpenstock. His thoughts were apparently busy, for he came within a few yards of Hester Martin, before he saw her. 'Hullo! Hester--you here? I came to get some news of Mrs. Sarratt and her husband. Is he all right?' Hester repeated the telegram, and added the information that seeing him coming, Mrs. Sarratt had gone in search of her sketching things. 'Ah!--I thought if she'd got good news she might like to begin,' said Farrell. 'Poor thing--she's lucky! Our casualties these last few days have been awful, and the gain very small. Men or guns--that's our choice just now. And it will be months before we get the guns. So practically, there's no choice. Somebody ought to be hung!' He sat down frowning. But his face soon cleared, and he began to study the point of view. 'Nothing to be made of it but a picture post-card,' he declared. 'However I daresay she'll want to try it. They always do--the beginners. The more ambitious and impossible the thing, the better.' 'Why don't you _teach_ her?' said Hester, severely. Farrell laughed. 'Why I only want to amuse her, poor little soul!' he said, as he put his easel together. 'Why should she take it seriously?' 'She's more intelligence than you think.' 'Has she? What a pity! There are so many intelligent people in the world, and so few pretty ones,' He spoke with a flippant self-confidence that annoyed his cousin. But she knew very well that she was poorly off in the gifts that were required to scourge him. And there already was the light form of Nelly, on the footbridge over the river. Farrell looked up and saw her coming. 'Extraordinary--the grace of the little thing!' he said, half to himself, half to Hester. 'And she knows nothing about it--or seems to.' 'Do you imagine that her husband hasn't told her?' Hester's tone was mocking. Farrell looked up in wonder. 'Sarratt? of course he has--so far as he has eyes to see it. But he has no idea how remarkable it is.' 'What? His wife's beauty? Nonsense!' 'How could he? It wants a trained eye,' said Farrell, quite serious. 'Hush!--here she comes.' Nelly came up breathlessly, laden with her own paraphernalia. Farrell at once perceived that she was pale and hollow-eyed. But her expression was radiant. 'How kind of you to come!' she said, looking up at him. 'You know I've had good news--splendid news?' 'I do indeed. I came to ask,' he said gravely. 'He's out of it for a bit?'