"Some, perhaps; but there is danger in the life which surrounds these boys now. I am much concerned about Billy. Unless something happens to shake him up he will never know what life really is. The nobility of heroism, an every-day occurrence on the firing-line, is something which could not fail to leave its impress on these youngsters. It is worth thinking over." "I couldn't let Philip go," Marian said with the old-time finality in her voice. "Perhaps not," Huntington replied with a significant look. "It may be most unwise; but if Nature should seem to point strongly in that direction we must be careful not to thwart it." Marian flushed. "You are right, Mr. Huntington," she said with frank understanding; "I shall be careful, you may be sure." "Where are the boys now?" Huntington asked. "I would prefer to postpone the discussion with them until I am rested. I'm not used to problems, you know, and lately they seem to have concentrated themselves on me. Help me to escape them for another hour!" "Take Mr. Huntington down to the water-garden," Marian suggested smiling; "no one will think of looking for you there." "Would you like to go?" Merry asked him. "Nothing would rest me more." "Won't you come, Momsie?" "No, dear; you must do the honors in my stead." They wandered through the formal garden in silence, down the shaded _bosquet_, and across a bit of lawn to the fresh-water garden which was built only a little back from the shore itself. A miniature torii, from whose crossbeam hung a replica in straw of the mystic _shimenawa_, marked the entrance, sounding the motivation for the Oriental note within. They passed through this and walked between the rows of Japanese maples which formed an avenue ending in a vista of the sea. In the moment they had transported themselves, for within the limitations marked by the avenue of trees there was nothing to suggest anything save the East: there were the little shrines surrounded by Oriental flower-pots; there was a tiny lake, crossed by an arched stone bridge, through which could be seen the luxuriant bloom of the lotus and other rare aquatic plants, brilliant in their coloring and foliage, growing in and out of the water and over the rocks with well-planned irregularity; there was the lilliputian grove of dwarfed trees impudently challenging comparison with their taller neighbors. "I'm glad you brought me here," Huntington said as they seated themselves upon a curiously-carved stone. "Other parts of the estate are far more impressive, but you have no spot which appeals to me more by virtue of its beauty." "I love it too," the girl acknowledged. "Almost every one looks at it once or twice and admires it, but no one seems to care to linger here as I do. I am sure to be alone, so I come almost every day to read Lafcadio Hearn and to dream of Nippon."