still rang in her own ears. She felt ashamed
of the outburst now as she watched him cutting the
branches ahead of her, and thought how gentle and
tender he had always been to her and how watchful
over her comfort. She wondered at the cause of her
frequent discontent. Then, like an evil spirit that
would not down, there arose in her mind, as she
walked on, the picture she had formed of Kennedy
Square. She thought of his mother's imperious nature
absorbing all the love of his heart and inspiring
and guiding his every action and emotion; of the
unpractical father--a dreamer and an enthusiast, the
worst possible example he could have; of the false
standards and class distinctions which had warped his
early life and which were still dominating him. With
an abrupt gesture of impatience she stood still in the
path and looked down upon the ground. An angry
flush suffused her face.

"What a stupid fool you are, Margaret Grant,"
she burst out impatiently. "What are Kennedy
Square and the whole Horn family to you?"

Oliver's halloo brought her to consciousness.

"Here's that slant, Margaret--oh, such a lovely
spot! Hurry up."

"The slant" had been built between two great
trees and stood on a little mound of earth surrounded