veil. Maurice raised himself on his elbow and surveyed her in surprise,
forgetting to reply.

"What is the matter?" she asked again, looking at him with a pair of
serious gray eyes.

"Nothing," he answered.

The gray eyes grew merry. Rosalind laughed, as she said, "Then you ought
not to groan. I thought when I heard you, perhaps you had fallen from a
tree."

"I wasn't groaning," he protested, feeling ashamed.

"Maybe you call it sighing, but it was dreadfully deep."

"Well, I think a fellow has a right to sigh when he can't do anything or
go anywhere; and everybody else is having a good time," Maurice felt
anxious to vindicate himself.

"I am not having a good time," said Rosalind, "at least not very; but then
you know if you stay in the Forest of Arden, something pleasant is bound
to happen before long."

Maurice stared at her blankly.

"Perhaps you don't know the story," Rosalind suggested.

"What story?"