He did know it; he knew everything she took, and as he felt that there was no excuse for him to stay there any longer, he slowly walked away. The place Margery had chosen was a nice little nook for a nice little hermit. It was a bit of low beach, very narrow, and flanked on the shore side by a row of bushes, which soon turned and grew down to the water's edge, thus completely cutting off one end of the beach. At the other end the distance between the shrubbery and the water was but a few feet, so that Margery could eat her breakfast without being disturbed by the rest of the world. Reclining on the rug with the little tray on the ground before her, and some green leaves and a few pale wild flowers peeping over the edge of it to see what she had for breakfast, Margery gave herself up to the enjoyment of life. "Each, one," she said aloud; "I am one, and beautiful nature is another. Just two of us, and each, one. Go away, sir," she said to a big buzzing creature with transparent wings, "you are another, but you don't count." Arthur Raybold was perhaps the member of the party who was the best satisfied to be himself. He had vowed, as he left the camp-fire the night before, that his sister had at last evolved an idea which had some value. Be himself? He should think so! He firmly believed that he was the only person in the camp capable of truly acting his own part in life. Clyde had told him that on this morning he was going to move the tent over to their own camp, and though he had objected very forcibly, he found that Clyde was not to be moved, and that the tent would be. In an angry mood he had been the first one of the Associated Hermits to assert his individuality. He made up his mind that he would not leave the immediate atmosphere of Margery. He would revolve about her in his waking hours and in his dreams, and in the latter case he would revolve in a hammock hung between two trees not far from his sister's tent; and as he was not one who delayed the execution of his plans, he had put up the hammock that night, although his tent was still in Camp Rob. He had not slept very well, because he was not used to repose in a hammock; and he had risen early, for, though wrapped in a blanket, he had found himself a little chilly. Starting out for a brisk walk to warm himself, he had not gone far before he thought he heard something which sounded like the clicking of knife and fork and dish. He stopped, listened, and then approached the source of the sounds, and soon stood at the open end of Margery's little beach. For a few moments she did not know he was there, so engrossed was her mind with the far-away shadows on the lake, and with the piece of bread and jam she held in her hand. "Oh, happy Fates!" he exclaimed. "How have ye befriended me! Could I have believed such rare fortune was in store for me?" At the sound of his voice Margery turned her head and started, and in the same instant she was on her feet.