CHAPTER XVIII


Young Mr. Coppinger had been well inspired in his selection of a site
for the entertainment. The trees along the river's bank had ceased for
a space, leaving a level ring of grass, whereon certain limestone
boulders had scattered themselves, with the deliberate intention, as
it would seem, of providing seats for picnickers. Across that fairy
circle of greenness a small vassal-stream bore its tribute waters to
the Ownashee, with as much dignity as it had been able to assume in
the forty level yards that lay between its suzerain and the steep glen
down which it had flung itself. Not only had young Mr. Coppinger been
so gracious as to provide this setting for the revel, but he was even
now sacrificing a spotless pair of white flannel trousers to the needs
of the company, and had concentrated on the cajolery of the fire,
which, obedient to the etiquette that rules picnic fires, refused to
consume any fuel less stimulating than matches. Other of the young
gentlemen of the party, including the half-twin, Mr. George
Talbot-Lowry (now a sub-lieut. R.N.) were detailed to gather sticks, a
duty that was so arranged as to involve, with each load of firewood,
the jumping of the vassal-stream, and thus gave opportunity for a
display akin to that of the jungle-cocks, who, naturalists inform us,
leap emulatively before their ladies. Prominent among these was that
youth who, as a medical student, had inspired Miss Mangan in
flapperhood, with an admiration for his gifts, intellectual and
physical, that was only equalled by his own appreciation of these
advantages. His opinion remained unchanged, but he was beginning to
fear that Tishy's taste was deteriorating. None sprang more lightly
across that little stream, or commented more humorously on men and