"Yes! I thought you followed him," she cast a look across the moor where the slender figure of the boy could just be seen disappearing on the horizon. "How fast he walks. Here, there, and everywhere, like a ghost!" "I did not follow Sidney," said Herrick gravely, "but I see that I must take the boy in hand. His brain is too excitable." "You don't think he is mad," said Ida turning pale. "I assure you that he is very shrewd in many ways, and looks after himself thoroughly. But he was always a delicate boy with strange habits." "He is a poet," said Herrick decisively, "that is why he 'sees things' as he puts it. His imagination and brain power are too strong for his weak body. If he went in for exercise and took pleasure in sport he would soon lose these unhealthy phantasies. They would pass away in verse." "Do you think he ought to go to a public school?" "Certainly not. The boy is too peculiar; too rare a spirit. The other boys would not understand him, and he would be as unhappy as Coleridge and Lamb. No! He needs looking after privately. I like Corn, but he does not understand the boy. Let me see to it, Miss Endicotte." "Indeed," faltered Ida, "I should be very glad. We are all very fond of Sidney; but he is peculiar as you say. And you have done wonders with Stephen. I can see that." "I have only induced him to take an interest in healthy things," said Herrick, "the rest follows as a matter of course. But I am glad you are pleased. You know that I am anxious to please you--Ida." Miss Endicotte blushed and drew back with a look of surprise. Then she seemed to make up her mind, and instead of leaving him as seemed to be her original intention, she walked on beside him towards the moor. "You are very kind," she said simply. "You are not angry at my calling you Ida?" "Not at all. I call you Dr. Jim. You seem to be a kind of brother to us all. I am glad that Stephen has so good a friend." "But I do not want to be a brother," said Jim in a deep voice, trying to take her hand. "You must understand--" She drew her hand away quietly. "I do understand," she said in low tones. "But I beg of you not to go on talking like this." "But Ida--you must have seen. I love you." "No! You do not love me, Dr. Jim," she laid her hand on his shoulder, and looked gravely into his flushed face. "If you had really been in love with me, I should not have waited. You saw how I turned to go and changed my mind. That was because I wish to put matters right between us." "I do not understand Ida." "I know you don't and that is why you speak. If you were in love with me Dr. Jim, you would know that I am in love with someone else." "In love with someone else? Not--not Stephen?"