"Nonsense!" says Roger (of course it is not _he_ who has to do it). "Why should you feel nervous about a thing like that? You don't want to marry him, therefore say so. Nothing can be simpler." "It doesn't sound simple to me," says Dulce, dolefully. Just at this moment a young man, dressed in gray, emerges from the group of alders that line the south edge of the lake, very near to where Dulce and Roger are standing. He is so situated that he is still concealed from view, though quite near enough to the cousins to hear what they are saying. The last two sentences having fallen on his ears, he stands as if spell-bound, and waits eagerly for what may come next. "He can't possibly want to marry you if you don't want to marry him," says Roger, logically, "and you _don't_?" a little doubtfully still. "I don't, indeed," says Dulce, with a sad sigh and a shake of her auburn head. At this the young man in the gray suit, with a bitter curse, turns away, and, retracing his steps, gets to the other side of the lake without being seen by either Dulce or his companion. Here he declines to stay or converse with anyone. Passing by Portia and the two men who are still attending to her, he bows slightly, and pretends not to hear Dicky's voice as it calls to him to stop. "He is like that contemptible idiot who went round with the 'banner with the strange device,'" says Dicky Browne, looking after him; "nothing will stop him." "What's up with him now?" asks Sir Mark, squeezing his glass into his eye, the better to watch Stephen's figure, as it hurriedly disappears. "I expect he has eaten something that has disagreed with him," says Dicky, cheerfully. "Well, really, he looked like it," says Gore. "A more vinegary aspect it has seldom been my lot to gaze upon, for which I acknowledge my gratitude. My dear Portia, unless you intend to go in for rheumatics before your time, you will get up from that damp grass and come home with me." CHAPTER XXIV. "Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break." --_In Memoriam._ "DID _he_--I mean did _you_--ever--; Dulce, will you be very angry with me if I ask you a question?" "No. But I hope it won't be a disagreeable one," says Dulce, glancing at him cautiously. "That is just as you may look at it," says Roger. "But I suppose I may say it--after all, we are like brother and sister are we not?" "Ye-es. _Quite_ like brother and sister," says Dulce, but somehow this thought seems to give her no pleasure. "Only we are _not_, you know," puts in Roger, rather hastily. "No, of course we are _not_," replies she, with equal haste. "Well, then, look here--" But even now that he has got so far, he hesitates again, looks earnestly at her, and pulls his mustache uncertainly, as if half afraid to go any further.