"Pleasure versus duty," said Jockie knowingly. "It's the way with me. My chief chum is a girl—oh, she is grand! I would like you to know her. We did everything together at school, and she inspired me. She's chock full of enthusiasm and earnestness, and life is all nobility and grandeur, and work is our vocation, and we tread in the air, with our souls in heaven when we're together, and then when we part, I tumble down to earth, and have been grovelling on it ever since I last heard her speak. But she's trained me to have an uncomfortable feeling when idle the whole day through, so I know what it is to be tugged two different ways." Jockie knew how to talk; her tongue was at it hard till the farm was reached. They came upon Chuckles swinging upon the gate. "Can't come in!" he cried. "This is my castle, and everybodies outside is enemies!" Jockie caught him up in her strong young arms, then seated herself upon the gate and began to swing herself and him together. "Now this is our castle," she said, "and two are better than one to keep the gate!" Chuckles was enchanted. It was some minutes before Sidney could persuade them to get down and walk on quietly with her to the house. "We're ploughing the five-acre field to-day," said Chuckles importantly. "Aunt Monica will be back soon. We must see the men works, you know. And then we're going to see the frashing!" "You are a jolly little farmer," said Jockie admiringly. "Isn't he a duck, Miss Urquhart? Isn't it a pity that they grow up?" Chuckles frowned upon her. "It's a pity you growed up. If you were a nice little girl, you and me would play marbles at once. I got twopence of them yesterday." "Why aren't you at school, Chuckles?" asked Sidney. He twinkled all over. "They has the mumps." "Happy boy!" said Jockie. "I can play marbles. Let's have a game now." Chuckles seized hold of her, and they ran off together. Sidney caught sight of Monica coming across the yard, and went to meet her. They always had a good deal to say to each other, and Monica was interested to hear of the new arrival. "I don't understand girls, nor care for them," she said; "but if she likes to come over here sometimes, I can always give her a job. She will be very dull at the Rectory, I should think." "You must see her. I like her. She is frank and natural. We are going to lunch with the de Cressiers. Austin is not getting on well, Monica. He ought to be more at home, and this hunting has bewitched him." "Or Diana!" said Monica, laughing. "Well," said Sidney, with a little sigh, "I am pulled two different ways. When she is not with him, she is with Uncle Ted. I don't know which I dislike most." "You are hard upon her." "I suppose I am, but she will make no man happy, Monnie. She demands too much and gives too little." "That will make a man unselfish," said Monica thoughtfully. "People say men are selfish, but it is the women who make them so, and a selfish woman is a boon to the race of men."