"I'll sling the hammock anywhere you say." "I was never more wide awake. There are too many things to think out and plan." "Take the hammock, anyhow," he urged. "You can plan and rest, too." She let herself be so far persuaded, and he brought pillows from the tent. As she let herself relax, she first realized how weary she had become, and closed her eyes that she might taste the full luxury of rest. The rhythmic chuckle of the little brook where the watercress grew was ineffably soothing. It seemed almost articulate, an elfish voice to which the small waves, lapping the shore, played a delicate accompaniment. She dreamily fitted words to its chant, and presently, still smiling at the conceit, strayed quite into the delectable land where water-sprites are real, and beautiful impossibilities matter of fact. The shadows had lengthened when she woke. Her companion sat with his back to a tree trunk as before, but she perceived that he had stretched a bit of canvas to screen her from the slanting sun. "It was best all round," he said, as she sprang up reproachfully. "It did you good and gave me leisure to think. I felt sorrier than ever while you lay there, smiling and dimpling in your sleep, like a child." "I despise that dimple," avowed Jean, disgustedly. "You despise it!" "It's so--so feminine." "Of course it is; that is no reason for abusing it." "I think it's a mighty good reason. A dimple will be a great handicap in my life." [Illustration: "A dimple will be a great handicap in my life."] "Great Jupiter!" said the young man softly. "Why, some girls I know would give--But we can't discuss dimples, just now, can we? What I began to say, before you took my breath away, was that I think I've solved the clothes problem. You know there's a town about ten miles to the north--the county seat--and it occurs to me that if I set out to-night, I can be back here early in the morning with everything you'll need. I don't believe they'll suspect me, even if they have happened to read that a refuge girl has escaped. I can buy the skirt in one store, the hat in another, and so on, pretending they're for my sister--or my wife." Jean's refractory dimple deepened. "Make it your mother," she advised. "Wives and sisters prefer to do their own shopping." "Very well, then. If you will jot down the measurements and other technicalities, I'll manage it somehow. As for money," he added, perceiving her falter, "I will take care of that, too, if you'll allow me. You will naturally need a loan." Jean swallowed a lump. "You're a brick," she said huskily. "I'll pay you back with the first money I earn." The brick received her praise with a change of color appropriate to his title. "Any fellow would be--be glad to help, you know," he stammered. "And you needn't feel that you must hurry to pay up, either. Wait until you're well settled among your friends." "My friends! I have none."