Ralph considered the study a good thing, but he had his views upon the composition of love-letters. "You are an ungrateful boy," said Winsome sternly, "and I shall see that you get no more letters--not any more!" "I shall never want any, little woman," cried Ralph joyously, "for I shall have you!" It was a blessing that at this moment they were passing under the dense shade of the great oaks at the foot of the orchard. Winsome had thought for five minutes that it would happen about there. It happened. A quarter of an hour later they came out into the cool ocean of leaf shadow which lay blue upon the grass and daisies. Winsome now carried the sunbonnet over her arm, and in the morning sunshine her uncovered head was so bright that Ralph could not gaze at it long. Besides, he wanted to look at the eyes that looked at him, and one cannot do everything at once. "This is your study," she said, standing back to let him look in. It was a long, low room with an outside stair above the farthermost barn, and Winsome had fitted it up wondrously for Ralph. It opened off the orchard, and the late blossoms scattered into it when the winds blew from the south. They stood together on the topmost step. There was a desk and one chair, and a low window-seat in each of the deep windows. "You will never be disturbed here," said Winsome. "But I want to be disturbed," said Ralph, who was young and did not know any better. "Now go in," said Winsome, giving him a little push in the way that, without any offence, a proximate wife may. "Go in and study a little this morning, and see how you like it." Ralph considered this as fair provocation, and turned, with bonds and imprisonment in his mind. But Winsome had vanished. But from beneath came a clear voice out of the unseen: "If you don't like it, you can come round and tell me. It will not be too late till the afternoon. Any time before three!" A mere man is at a terrible disadvantage in word play of this kind. On this occasion Ralph could think of nothing better than-- "Winsome Charteris, I shall pay you back for this!" Then he heard what might either have been a bell ringing for the fairies' breakfast, or a ripple of the merriest earthly laughter very far away. Then he sat down to study. It took him quite an hour to arrive at a conclusion; but when reached it was a momentous one. It was, that it is a mistake to be married in summer, for three o'clock in the afternoon is such a long time in coming. CHAPTER XLV. THE LAST OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET.