"Lord!" muttered the Ensign, mopping his forehead with his sleeve. "Will you do it for me, Mr. Ronald?" she continued coaxingly. For an instant he hesitated, then the worm turned. "No," he said quietly, "I won't. You can wash your own horse." "Will you, Cousin Rob?" she asked sweetly, turning to Forsyth. The dull colour bronzed his face and he saw a steely glitter in Ronald's blue eyes. "No," he answered, emboldened by the other's example; "not by any means." "I haven't any friends," remarked Beatrice, sadly, to the Doctor. "Friends are one thing," retorted Ronald, hotly, "and body servants are another. I'm willing to lead your horse around, because it's too hot for you to ride her, and I wouldn't want to be seen riding a nag like that anyhow; but I won't bathe her nor comb her hair nor put on her shoes." He turned on his heel and walked away, the personification of offended dignity. Beatrice laughed, while Forsyth and the Doctor looked at her in amazement. "Oh," she gasped, "isn't he--isn't he funny when he's mad!" Ronald strode into the Fort and gave no sign of having heard, save by a tell-tale redness of the ears. Robert felt concerned in a way, but the Doctor was not. "You'll find, Miss Manning," he said judicially, "as you grow older, that there's a limit to everything and everybody." "Of course," returned the girl, seriously; "I was just locating it." "Shall we go back, now?" asked Robert. "No; I'm going to see Katherine." "Very well." He started toward the Fort with her and Norton followed them. "What?" she asked; "are you both coming, too?" "I'm not," said the Doctor, quietly. "Are you, Cousin Rob?" "Of course--I'm going wherever you do." Ronald was talking with Mrs. Franklin, and did not seem to see the two who went to the Lieutenant's. Robert brought chairs for Mrs. Howard and Beatrice and seated himself on the upper step. "Where's George?" asked Katherine. "Isn't he coming over?" She had grown accustomed to seeing the three together, and vaguely missed Ronald. "He was bad," explained the girl, fanning herself with her handkerchief, "and I think he's ashamed to come." "Bad--how?" "He wouldn't wash Queen. I asked him to, and he said he wouldn't. Cousin Rob wouldn't, either." "Well, I don't blame them. You seem to expect a good deal, Bee." "Oh," laughed Beatrice, "how serious you all are! I believe Mr. Ronald and Cousin Rob thought I meant it!" "You seemed to," put in Robert, in self-justification. "Men are very stupid," she observed, dispassionately; "but suppose I did mean it--what then? Were you in earnest when you said you wouldn't?" "Yes," said Robert, steadfastly; "whether you were joking or not, I was in earnest, and so was Ronald." Hitherto, men had not openly defied the girl's imperious will, and she had the sensation of unexpectedly encountering a brick wall. "Would you mind going over after my sewing?" she asked, suddenly. "Certainly not--where is it?" "Aunt Eleanor knows."