Ward, which means content. But you don't have a very high opinion of
him?"

"Oh, yes, I have," Lois said quickly; "only he isn't good enough for
Helen. I suppose, though, I'd say that of anybody. And he irritates me,
he is so different from other people. I don't think I do--adore him!"

Gifford did not speak; he took another strand of grass, and began to
weave it round and round his little ring, to make it smaller.

"Perhaps I ought not to say that," she added; "of course I wouldn't to
any one but you."

"You ought not to say it to me, Lois," he said.

"Why? Isn't it true?" she said. "I don't think it is wrong to say he's
different; it's certainly true!" Gifford was silent. "Do you?" she
demanded.

"Yes," Gifford answered quietly; "and somehow it doesn't seem fair, don't
you know, to say anything about them, they are so happy; it seems as
though we ought not even to speak of them."

Lois was divided between indignation at being found fault with and
admiration for the sentiment. "Well," she said, rather meekly for her, "I
won't say anything more; no doubt I'll like him when I know him better."

"See if that fits your finger, Lois," her companion said, sitting up, and
handing her the little grass ring. She took it, smiling, and tried it on.
Gifford watched her with an intentness which made him frown; her bending