"Mrs. Perkenpine," said Matlack, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, "there's a good many things besides moons that I can't swallow, and if it's all the same to you, I'll go to bed." "Well," she exclaimed, looking after him, "his individdlety is the snapshortest I ever did see! I don't believe he wants to know hisself. If he did, I'm dead sure I could help him. He never goes out to run a camp without somebody to help him, and yet he's so everlastin' blind he can't see the very best person there is to help him, and she a-plumpin' herself square in front of him every time she gits a chance." With that reflection she rose and walked away. "I tell you, Harriet," said Mr. Archibald, when he and his wife had returned from their walk and were about to enter the cabin, "something must be done to enable us to spend the rest of our time here in peace. This is our camp, and we want it for ourselves. If a good companionable fellow like the bishop or that young Clyde happens along, it is all very well, but we do not want all sorts of people forcing themselves upon us, and I will not submit to it." "Of course we ought not to do that," said she, "but I hope that whatever you do, it will be something as pleasant as possible." "I will try to avoid any unpleasantness," said he, "and I hope I may do so, but---- By-the-way, where is Margery?" "I think she must be in bed," said Mrs. Archibald; then stepping inside, she called, "Margery, are you there?" "Yes, Aunt Harriet," replied Margery, "I am here." "She must have found it dreadfully stupid, poor girl!" said Mr. Archibald. The lights were all out in the Archibalds' cabin, and still Miss Raybold and the bishop walked up and down the open space at the farther end of the camp. "Corona!" exclaimed her brother, suddenly appearing before them, "I have told you over and over again that I wish to speak to you. Are you never going to stop that everlasting preaching and give me a chance to talk to you?" "Arthur!" she exclaimed, sharply, "I wish you would not interrupt me in this way. I had just begun to say--" "Oh, my dear Miss Raybold," cried the bishop, "do not let me prevent you from speaking to your brother. Indeed, it is growing late, and I will not trespass longer on your time. Good-night," and with a bow he was gone. "Now just see what you have done!" said Corona, her eye-glasses brighter than the moon. "Well, it is time he was going," said her brother. "I have something very important to say to you. I want your good offices in an affair more worthy of your thoughts than anything else at this moment." "Whatever it is," she said, turning away from him, "I do not want to hear it now--not a word of it. You have displeased me, Arthur, and I am going to my tent." CHAPTER XXV A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW