Rollo; 'we are on a pretty steep pitch of the hill. Don't you
like this wilderness? You want a gun though--or a pencil--to
give you the sense that you have something to do in the
wilderness.'

'Yes!' said Miss Hazel--'so Englishmen say: "What a nice day it
is!--let's go out and kill something." '

There was a good deal of amusement and keenness in his sideway
glance, as he demurely asked her 'if she didn't know how to
shoot?' But Wych Hazel, with a slight gesture of her silky
curls, merely remarked that she had pencils in her pocket--if
he wanted one.

'Thank you--have you paper too?'

'Plenty.'

'That I may not seem intolerably rude,' said he, extending his
hand for the paper,--'will you make one sketch while I make
another? We will limit the time, as they did at the London
Sketch Club.'

'O, I shall not think it even tolerably rude. But all my paper
is in this book.'

'To secure the conditions, I must tear a leaf out.--How will
that do?'

'Very well,' she said with a wee flitting of colour,--'if you