On the whole, he would not care to have her, he thought, and lest such a thing should happen he moved from under a pine branch which hung over him. She was a superb creature, more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen, and very likely she would be his wife, when he had made up his mind, if he ever did. But he was nervous and tired and wanted to go home, and at last asked Tom if he had any idea how late it was, and if they were not keeping the ladies out in the damp air too long. Tom would willingly have stayed there all night with Rena near him brushing the pine-needles from his arm and once picking one from his neck where it had fallen. He was sitting under the extreme end of a long branch of a tree and thus caught the dead needles when they dropped. But he didn’t mind, and the touch of Rena’s fingers sent the blood rushing through his veins at a headlong speed, making him long to imprison the little hand in his and cover it with kisses. He did take it as he rose in response to Reginald’s question, and held it while he said: “Is it late? I had not thought of the time. I was enjoying myself so hugely—but, yes, by Jove, there’s the village clock striking eleven, as I live! and we really must go.” Then he added: “This is a jolly place to sit. Let’s come here often, and—” turning to Rena, “if you ever want to look in the well, either by moonlight, or starlight, or sunlight, I am the man to hold the glass and see that you don’t fall in, and Rex, I am sure, will do the same for Irene; hey, Rex?” “I? oh, excuse me,” and Rex started to his feet with a feeling that he had been sitting in a pool of water. “I feel rather damp,” he said. “This bench must have been wet with the dew. I hope you haven’t taken cold.” None of us knew to whom this last remark was addressed, for he did not look at either of us, but Irene appropriated it and answered: “Oh, no. I told you I never take cold. It is all in your mind, and like Tom I have enjoyed being out of doors immensely.” “I hope you don’t take cold either, Miss Rena—” Reginald continued. The last word was spoken involuntarily, and with a start he exclaimed: “I beg your pardon. I should have said, Miss Burdick; but, you see, there are so many of you, it is rather confusing. I didn’t know there were two until recently.” He was talking at random and Tom thought he had lost his senses, while Irene frowned and bit her lips with vexation. Rena, on the contrary, laughed and said: “Two Miss Burdicks and two Irenes are enough to rattle any one. Please let me be Miss Rena, if you like. It will suit me perfectly and is what every one calls me.” “Thanks, I will,” Reginald said, keeping rather close to Tom and Rena as we left the pines.