And now to find that all the time she was on like secret terms with Modred--with Jason, too, perhaps, judging by his sidelong innuendoes, though it made my heart sick to think that she could play so double faced a game between me and one whom she professed to hate and despise. What a drama of dolls it was! And how soon the drama was to turn into a tragedy! I went indoors and upstairs to the room which Jason and I shared and flung myself on the bed. Then I was properly shocked and horrified to find that my cheeks were suddenly wet with tears--a humiliating discovery for a tough-sinewed young barbarian to make. What an admirable sight, indeed! Renalt Trender, sniffing and snuffling for a girl’s favor! Pride, however, is everywhere indigenous, and this came to my assistance. If the minx played sham with me I would meet her with her own tactics and affect indifference. What a triumphant picture this: Zyp--“Why have you been different to me of late, Renny? Aren’t you fond of me now?” Renny--“My good little Zyp, the fact is I have tired a bit of the novelty. It has been my first experience of the society of a girl, you know, and very pleasant while it lasted; but I confess to a little longing for a resumption of the old independence and freedom. Perhaps some day again we will walk and converse together as of old.” Atop of this imaginary question and answer rose a smugly anguishing picture of Zyp flushed and in tears (my imagination insisted on these in bucketsful, to out-flood my own temporary weakness); of Zyp hurt and sorrowing, but always striving by every means in her power to win back my lost favor. Alas, poor little clown! I fear it is just those who have the fancy to conjure up such pictures who suffer most cruelly from the non-realization of the hopes of youth. Braced to the test, however, and not knowing myself in weak armor, I came down to supper that evening prickling all through with resolve. Jason was in the room alone, as I entered, and was walking feverishly up and down. “Hist!” he said, softly, seizing me by the arm; “come here and look for yourself.” He dragged me to the little square window, which was open. It looked out at the back, and beneath was the railed platform before mentioned. I knew that I was urged to act the spy, and yet--so demoralizing is jealousy--like a dog I went. Softly we craned our necks through the opening and looked down. Trees all about here bordered the river banks, so as to make the rear of our mill quite secret and secluded. She, Zyp, was standing on the platform with her arm round Modred’s neck. She seemed trying to coax something from him which he was reluctant to part with. As he evaded her efforts I saw what it was--the little round yellow object I had noticed in his hand earlier in the afternoon. “Darling,” she said, in a subdued voice, “do let me have it.” He laughed and looked at her loutishly. “You know the condition, Zyp.” “I have let you kiss me over and over again.”