He succeeded in time in pruning the cluster into subordination, bound
them with a tough bit of dried weed which he found at his feet, and held
out the bunch. "Will you do me the honour of wearing them?"

She thrust the smooth stems into the breast of her riding-coat, where
they gave the last picturesque touch to her attire. "Thank you," she
acknowledged somewhat tardily. "I can do no less after seeing you
scarify yourself in my service. You might have put on your gloves."

"I might--and suffered your scarifying mirth, which would have been much
worse. 'He jests at scars that never felt a wound,' but he who jests at
them after he has felt them is the hero. Observe that I still jest." He
put his lips to a bleeding tear on his wrist as he spoke. "My only
regret is that the rose haws were not where they are now when I
photographed the horses. Only, mine is not a colour camera. I must get
one and have it with me when I drive, in case of emergencies like this
one."

A whimsical expression touching his lips, he gazed off over the
landscape as he spoke, and she glanced at his profile. She was obliged
to admit to herself that she had seldom noted one of better lines.
Curiously enough, to her observation there did not lack a suggestion of
ruggedness about his face, in spite of the soft and easy life she
understood him to have led.

Ted and Ruth now came panting up to them, and the four climbed together
to the hilltop.

Roberta turned and scanned the sun. Immediately she decreed that it was