peppery; to-day I should be more professional; let
us say saccharine, acidulated, irritant. These classes
still seem to me to include the greater part of young
womankind. Sorry to displease, but sich am de
facts. And--yes, I still sing '_aber hierathen ist nie
mein Sinn_!' Business? oh, so so! A country
doctor doesn't make a fortune, but he learns a power,
if he isn't an idiot. Now here is enough about me,
in all conscience. When you write, tell me about
yourself, and what the other fellows are doing.
After all, that is--"

Geoffrey came to the end of his paper, and paused to take a fresh
sheet. Glancing up as he did so, he also glanced out of the window,
to see what was going on in the garden. He always liked to keep in
touch with the garden, and was on intimate terms with every bird and
blossom in it. It was neither bird nor blossom that his eyes lighted
on now. A young girl stood on the gravel-path, near his favourite
syringa arbour. A hammock hung over her arm, and she carried a book
and a pillow. She was looking about her, evidently trying to select
a place to hang her hammock. Geoffrey considered her. She was
dressed in clear white; her hair, of a tawny reddish yellow, hung in
one heavy braid over her shoulder.

"Oh, yes, she is handsome," said Geoffrey, addressing the
syringa-bush. "I never said she wasn't handsome. The question is,
would she like me to hang that hammock for her, or would she
consider it none of my business?"

At this moment the girl dropped the book; then the pillow slipped