Something undefined in Olive's manner rather encouraged him on this day. She, to show that she resented the apparent indifference of Allan as being a 'laggard in love,' even while resenting the tenor of that family compact which was meant to bind them together, was disposed to flirt with Holcroft, out of pique rather than precise preference, and to annoy Allan. With the latter present now, Holcroft became at times a species of difficulty to Olive. During a past season in London there had been sundry, not exactly love-passages, but little coquettings and lingerings in conservatories that nearly amounted to such; and he, in ignorance of the footing in which she was regarded by the family, was quite inclined, penniless as he was, or nearly so, to revive, if not improve, past relations; and this had been his object from the first day he came to Dundargue. And now 'that muscular idiot the Master,' as he was in the habit of mentally calling Allan, having cantered out of sight, he addressed himself more fully to his companion and the matter in hand. 'I enjoy town to the full--none can do so more--when I am there, but I love--oh, I do love--the country!' replied Olive, in reply to a remark of Holcroft's about their last London season. 'It is always very romantic, of course, and all that sort of thing.' 'And with pleasant people about one, the country becomes so delightful for a time; and then we girls have such perfect freedom here.' 'Even an escort is not necessary at times.' 'Unless in the park--beyond that I always like to have one,' said Olive. 'Are you pleased to have _me_ for one?' he asked, in a low voice, and pretty pointedly. 'Of course,' she answered, frankly. 'How charming to be at hand in case of danger!' 'What possible danger?' asked Olive, with surprise. 'Oh, the untimely appearance of an infuriated stag or the proverbial mad bull of the three-volume novel.' 'Why not a brigand or a Bengal tiger?' said Olive, laughing; then, suddenly becoming grave, she added--'But, by the way, talking of Bengal, please to give me back my bangle.' 'Why?' 'Simply because I cannot permit you to retain it,' she replied, little foreseeing to what the natural request might lead. 'Do not deprive me of it!' he urged, softly and entreatingly. 'Why?' asked she, in return; 'for what reason. It is impossible--what may people say?' 'What they please, if seen, which it never shall be.' 'What might they not think?' 'Oh, what does it matter?' he urged again, with much would-be sadness and tenderness. 'Little to you, perhaps, but much to me,' retorted Olive; 'but I do not choose that aught should be either thought or said about it. We shall certainly be accused of flirting.' 'No, no, Miss Raymond--oh, no, Olive----' 'Olive!' she repeated, in a startled manner. 'Pardon me--none could ever accuse me of flirting with you--that were an impossibility--for deeper thoughts----'