"You'll not find it any easier by looking for it too hard," she said thoughtfully. "I'm certain of that. . . . It'll come in a flash to you, when you least expect it, and you'll see it as clear as daylight." For a while they sat in silence, both busy with their own thoughts. Then the girl laughed musically. "To think of me," she gurgled, "holding forth like this. . . . Why, I've never done such a thing before that I can remember." Then of a sudden she became serious. The big grey eyes looked steadily, almost curiously, at the face of the man beside her. "I wonder why," she whispered almost below her breath. "You've been most poisonously rude to me, and yet . . . and yet here am I talking to you as I've never talked to any other man in my life." Vane stared at the pool for a few moments before he answered. He was becoming uncomfortably aware that grey eyes with a certain type of chin were attractive--very attractive. But his tone was light when he spoke. "A quarrel is always a sound foundation." He looked up at her with a smile, but her eyes still held that half speculative look. . . . "I wonder what you would have thought of me," she continued after a moment, "if you'd met me before the war. . . ." "Why, that children of fifteen should be in bed by ten," he mocked. "Yes, but supposing I was what I am now, and you were what you were then--and you weren't filled with all these ideas about duty and futures and things. . . ." "You would have added another scalp to the collection, I expect," said Vane drily. They both laughed, then she bent slightly towards him. "Will you forgive me for what I said about--about that woman you were going to see?" "Why--sure," answered Vane. "I guess you owed me one." Joan laughed. "We'll wash the first lesson out. Except, of course, for that one thing you said. I mean about--the other. . . . I'd just hate to forget that there's a wedding coming on, and do anything that would make it awkward for me to be asked to the church. . . ." "You little devil, Joan," said Vane softly, "you little devil." She laughed lightly and sprang to her feet. "I must be going," she said. "At least three Colonials are waiting for my ministrations." She stood looking down at him. . . . "Are you going to walk back with me, or to resume your study of rodents?" Vane slipped the book in his pocket. "I'm afraid," he remarked, "that I should not be able to bring that undivided attention to bear on the subject which is so essential for my education. Besides--perhaps you'll have a few minutes to spare after you have dealt with the Colonials. . . ." He parted the branches for her. "My dear man," she retorted, "You've had far more than your fair official share already. . . ." She scrambled on to the path and Vane fell into step beside her. "And don't forget that you've only just been forgiven. . . ." "Which makes it all the more essential for me to have continual evidence of the fact," retorted Vane.