I laughed vexedly; but still I could see he was anxious about me, and I was working myself up to the last pitch of irritability, when suddenly I was conscious that Harry had gone past the window outside. I waited for his rap at the door. It did not follow. I jumped up, stung to fury, and disregarding my uncle’s cry, ran out of the house and came up with my friend. “What do you mean?” I said. “Were you going without me?” “I thought,” he answered, “you’d see me; and then you could come or not as you liked.” “Now, look here,” I said, “I won’t be treated in this way. I think it’s just beastly. Because I don’t jump at being made sick, every one’s going to pity me or be my superior.” “Why, what’s happened?” said Harry, with a twinkle. “Mrs. Puddephatt,” I answered. “I wish she’d leave my inside alone. And here you are going along with your nose in the air.” Harry was chuckling out loud; but he reddened as I ended. “I can’t help my nose,” he said gravely. “I don’t see the point.” “No more do I,” I answered, looking at it, and beginning to come round with a vexed laugh. It is strange what self-respect we can acquire from other people’s weaknesses. Harry’s “pug” was always a rather delicate subject with him. He flushed truculent a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and gave a good-natured laugh. “I must take what comfort I can out of its being a cushion,” he said. “It’s very resting to the eyes--better than yours, that they can’t settle on without slipping.” “Tit for tat,” I said. “You’ve answered me like a witty little gentleman, my darling. And now you can pull my ear, if you like, for having been cross and rude with you.” He responded, with the addition of an amiable kick, and Richard was himself again. The air being thus cleared, we went swiftly for the Mitre, chattering spasmodically all the way in a desperate pretence of swagger. I really think the greater credit was due to me, as I was being engaged to this anticlimax, as I considered it, entirely against my judgment. But my heart sank once more, when at last we came up on the hill among the ruins, and I realized at first hand the sinister futility of our design. The day had fallen wintry close and breathless. The sun was not blotted out, but dulled, as if a ground-glass window had been shut upon it. A light fog was stretching shorewards from the water, chilling and isolating us. It brought the very spirit of ghostly echoes with it, and wickedness and watchfulness; and it seemed to demoralize the pith in one’s bones. “O, if it’s got to be done, let’s get it over!” I said, with a shiver. “Why--Harry, look there!” He nipped my arm, and we both stood staring--at the place of our yesterday’s exit.