Betty was fascinated and even entertained by the atmosphere of this new environment while it was new, but in the course of time she began to long for a change--adventure, and admiration for the world at large. About two years after the marriage Jack paid one of his visits to the Garys. It was springtime, and the air was filled with the beauty of the season. Romance with her transforming wand had already touched Betty, and thoughts of Jack never failed to quicken her pulse. It was his fourth or fifth visit since Christmas; and each time Walter and Betty had welcomed him wholeheartedly. Jack had risen early this morning prepared to take a long walk, and had been served a cup of hot coffee before starting. He was, as usual, perfectly dressed. One could not call him vain; yet he had an inherent desire to appear handsomer, more learned, and more of an athlete, in the company of Betty than he really was. Going down the drive he heard a happy peal of laughter. It was childish, yet more mellow and appealing in its ring. Looking around Jack perceived the slight figure of Betty perched high in a tree. She was climbing higher with the agility of a squirrel, stepping from limb to limb and frolicking among the branches like a young animal, that had not yet been burdened with the care of gathering food or preparing for winter shelter. On limbs lower down were two small boys of about eight and ten, children of the overseer. They had already become Betty’s playmates, and were making a desperate effort not to be outdone by her. Jack gave a long low whistle. Betty clung closer to the trunk of the tree and then peeped out, disclosing to view one eye and a part of her dishevelled hair. In answer to the whistle she encircled her mouth with her hand and called, “It’s too early for anyone to be up yet.” “May I climb up there?” called back Jack softly. “No, I’m all disarranged.” “Please let me,” he pleaded. “I’m coming down this minute,” answered Betty, lowering herself to the ground. “Will you walk a little with me?” asked Jack, bound not to lose her for the two long hours before the morning meal. “I’m only in bloomers,” answered Betty still protecting herself from view. “They are all the better for walking--come with me, the air is wonderful.” “Come along then.” In less than a minute Jack was by her side. “How adorable,” he remarked, as he caught his breath and surveyed the small figure before him attired in a middy blouse, bloomers and sneakers. “Is it bad for me to walk with you so early without Walter,” she asked slyly, pretending not to know. “Why what’s bad about it? It isn’t premeditated, and I’m not going to abduct you.” “Abduct me,” repeated Betty, “I never thought of such a thing.” “But I have,” Jack replied, complacently. “I’d steal you this very second, if I dared.” “If you talk like that, Jack, I shall not stay with you.”