dull because he was not joining in the sport, proposed that he should
walk back to the house with her, leaving Mr. Lavender with Duncan. And
Ingram was quite ready to do so.

But Lavender protested that he cared very little for salmon-fishing.
He suggested that they should all go back together. The sun was
killing the wind, and soon the pools would be as clear as glass. Had
they not better try in the afternoon, when perhaps the breeze would
freshen? And so they walked back to the house.

On the garden-seat a book lay open. It was Mr. Mill's _Essay on
Liberty_, and it had evidently been left there by Mr. Mackenzie,
perhaps--who knows?--to hint to his friends from the South that he was
familiar with the problems of the age. Lavender winked to Ingram, but
somehow his companion seemed in no humor for a joke.

They had luncheon then, and after luncheon Ingram touched Lavender
on the shoulder and said, "I want to have a word with you privately.
Let's walk down to the shore."

And so they did; and when they had got some little distance from the
house, Ingram said, "Look here, Lavender. I mean to be frank with you.
I don't think it fair that you should try to drag Sheila Mackenzie
into a flirtation. I knew you would fall in love with her. For a week
or two, that does not matter--it harms no one. But I never thought
of the chance of her being led into such a thing, for what is a mere
passing amusement to you would be a very serious thing to her."

"Well?"