"Of course," he admitted, "I may have looked comfortable just now, rooting and pawing about in the leaves for that specimen, but I didn't really feel so." "You know well enough what I mean," Constance persisted, though a little more pacifically. "You go with me willingly enough on such jaunts as this, where it doesn't mean any very special exertion, though sometimes I think you don't enjoy them very much. I know you would much rather drift about in a boat on the lake, or sit under a tree, and have me read to you. Do you know, I've never seen any one who cared so much for old tales of knights and their deeds of valor and strove so little to emulate them in real life." Frank waited a little before replying. Then he said gently: "I confess that I would rather listen to the tale of King Arthur in these woods, and as you read it, Conny, than to attempt deeds of valor on my own account. When I am listening to you and looking off through these wonderful woods I can realize and believe in it all, just as I did long ago, when I was a boy and read it for the first time. These are the very woods of romance, and I am expecting any day we shall come upon King Arthur's castle. When we do I shall join the Round Table and ride for you in the lists. Meantime I can dream it all to the sound of your voice, and when I see the people here climbing these mountains and boasting of such achievements I decide that my dream is better than their reality." But Miss Deane's memory of the recent circumstances still rankled. She was not to be easily mollified. "And while you dream, I am to find my reality as best I may," she said coldly. "But, Constance," he protested, "haven't I climbed trees, and gone down into pits, and waded through swamps, and burrowed through vines and briars at your command; and haven't I more than once tasted of the things that you were not perfectly sure of, because the book didn't exactly cover the specimen? Now, here I'm told that I'm hopeless, which means that I'm a failure, when even at this moment I bear the marks of my devotion." He pointed at the knees of his trousers, damp from his recent experience. "I've done battle with nature," he went on, "and entered the lists with your detractors. You said once there are knights we do not recognize and armor we do not see. Now, don't you think you may be overlooking one of those knights, with a suit of armor a little damp at the knees, perhaps, but still stout and serviceable?" The girl did not, as usual, respond to his gayety and banter. "You may joke about it, if you like," she said, "but true knights, even in the garb of peasants, have been known to scale dizzy heights for a single flower. I have never known of one who refused to accompany a lady on such an errand, especially when it was up an easy mountain trail which even children have climbed." "Then this is a notable day, for you have met two." She nodded.