Standing at its brink, like a swimmer who prepares, was the good
man. But he was not the good man that she had expected, and he
was alone.

George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he
contemplated her, as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw
radiant joy in her face, he saw the flowers beat against her
dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped
quickly forward and kissed her.

Before she could speak, almost before she could feel, a voice
called, "Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!" The silence of life had been broken
by Miss Bartlett who stood brown against the view.



Chapter VII: They Return

Some complicated game had been playing up and down the hillside
all the afternoon. What it was and exactly how the players
had sided, Lucy was slow to discover. Mr. Eager had met them with
a questioning eye. Charlotte had repulsed him with much small
talk. Mr. Emerson, seeking his son, was told whereabouts to find
him. Mr. Beebe, who wore the heated aspect of a neutral, was
bidden to collect the factions for the return home. There was a
general sense of groping and bewilderment. Pan had been amongst
them--not the great god Pan, who has been buried these two
thousand years, but the little god Pan, who presides over social
contretemps and unsuccessful picnics. Mr. Beebe had lost every
one, and had consumed in solitude the tea-basket which he had