Upon the instant, as Theron was more laboriously getting up, it became
apparent to them both that perhaps they had been there too long.

A boy with a gun under his arm, and two gray squirrels tied by the tails
slung across his shoulder, stood at the entrance to the glade, some
dozen paces away, regarding them with undisguised interest. Upon the
discovery that he was in turn observed, he resumed his interrupted
progress through the woods, whistling softly as he went, and vanished
among the trees.

"Heavens above!" groaned Theron, shudderingly.

"Know him?" he went on, in answer to the glance of inquiry on his
companion's face. "I should think I did! He spades my--my wife's garden
for her. He used to bring our milk. He works in the law office of one
of my trustees--the one who isn't friendly to me, but is very friendly
indeed with my--with Mrs. Ware. Oh, what shall I do? It may easily mean
my ruin!"

Celia looked at him attentively. The color had gone out of his face, and
with it the effect of earnestness and mental elevation which, a minute
before, had caught her fancy. "Somehow, I fear that I do not like you
quite so much just now, my friend," she remarked.

"In God's name, don't say that!" urged Theron. He raised his voice in
agitated entreaty. "You don't know what these people are--how they would
leap at the barest hint of a scandal about me. In my position I am a
thousand times more defenceless than any woman. Just a single whisper,
and I am done for!"