"A luxury. That is the exact word, Mr. Inskip. A luxury. A whim. It is all very well for Jack Ford. And here we come to another point. Surely she keeps Jack back? Her knowledge must be elementary." "Well, her knowledge _is_ elementary: and I must say that it's difficult to teach them together. Jack has read a good deal, one way and another, whereas Miss Beaumont, though diligent and enthusiastic----" "So I have been feeling. The arrangement is scarcely fair on Jack?" "Well, I must admit----" "Quite so. I ought never to have suggested it. It must come to an end. Of course, Mr. Inskip, it shall make no difference to you, this withdrawal of a pupil." "The lessons shall cease at once, Mr. Worters." Here she came up to us. "Harcourt, there are seventy-eight trees. I have had such a count." He smiled down at her. Let me remember to say that he is tall and handsome, with a strong chin and liquid brown eyes, and a high forehead and hair not at all gray. Few things are more striking than a photograph of Mr. Harcourt Worters. "Seventy-eight trees?" "Seventy-eight." "Are you pleased?" "Oh, Harcourt----!" I began to pack up the tea-things. They both saw and heard me. It was their own fault if they did not go further. "I'm looking forward to the bridge," said he. "A rustic bridge at the bottom, and then, perhaps, an asphalt path from the house over the meadow, so that in all weathers we can walk here dry-shod. The boys come into the wood--look at all these initials--and I thought of putting a simple fence, to prevent any one but ourselves----" "Harcourt!" "A simple fence," he continued, "just like what I have put round my garden and the fields. Then at the other side of the copse, away from the house, I would put a gate, and have keys--two keys, I think--one for me and one for you--not more; and I would bring the asphalt path----" "But Harcourt-----" "But Evelyn!" "I--I--I----" "You--you--you----?" "I--I don't want an asphalt path." "No? Perhaps you are right. Cinders perhaps. Yes. Or even gravel." "But Harcourt--I don't want a path at all. I--I--can't afford a path." He gave a roar of triumphant laughter. "Dearest! As if you were going to be bothered? The path's part of my present." "The wood is your present," said Miss Beaumont. "Do you know--I don't care for the path. I'd rather always come as we came to-day. And I don't want a bridge. No--nor a fence either. I don't mind the boys and their initials. They and the girls have always come up to Other Kingdom and cut their names together in the bark. It's called the Fourth Time of Asking. I don't want it to stop." "Ugh!" He pointed to a large heart transfixed by an arrow. "Ugh! Ugh!" I suspect that he was gaining time.