Then Austin would appear and carry her off in triumph to his father's study, whence Mrs. de Cressiers would hear gay laughter and chatter. If she went in, she would generally find Austin there, sometimes astride on the low window-sill that opened upon the terrace, sometimes pretending to sort over papers at his father's desk, but in reality listening to the gay young voice and having wordy skirmishes with audacious Jockie, when he could get a chance. Mr. de Cressiers would lie back amongst his cushions, well pleased, and would always say to his wife: "We must keep Miss Jockie to lunch. I want her to read to me afterwards." And Mrs. de Cressiers soon gave up trying to keep Jockie and Austin apart. The girl's bright natural ways and frank affection began to have effect upon her. She comforted herself with the thought that Austin was too perfectly at ease in Jockie's presence to have any warmer feeling for her than that of a comrade and friend. He teased her unmercifully, and sometimes she would lose her temper and take her departure with stiff dignity; but the next time they met, the past would be forgotten, and they would be greater friends than ever. One lovely evening in September, Austin and Jockie were boating on the river together. Austin had been rather grave and silent, and Jockie was fond of relapsing into dreams when she was upon the water. She looked up at him presently, and her eyes began to twinkle. "A penny for your thoughts, old sobersides." "We'll exchange them; give me yours." "I was thinking of dear Sidney. I do wish someone would come along and marry her, so as to prevent her shutting herself up in some poky house. But there isn't anyone near here good enough for her. Of course, women don't marry nowadays as they used to do; but Sidney is so enchanting that she ought not to be wasted." "It's rather rum that both our minds should be running on matrimony. I was trying to make up my mind to 'come along,' as you term it, and 'marry somebody.' I think it is time I settled down." Jockie looked at him with round eyes. "You're too young," she said, with her head in the air; "boys like you couldn't be trusted with wives. You would not know how to take care of them." "Girls don't want to be taken care of nowadays," he retorted; "more's the pity. They're too independent to suit me. And you talk as if I'm intending to have a batch of wives. One would be quite enough for me." Jockie's laugh rippled out. She leant over the side of the boat and let her hand trail in the water. She looked at him through half-shut eyes. "Go on," she said. "Tell me about your future wife. What is she going to be like?" But Austin was silent. He compressed his lips. Then he blurted out suddenly: "If you don't think I would make a good husband, we'll change the subject."