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I've done them, and this is my first May."
It was impossible not to applaud and sympathise, for it was no later than
the 27th of April. The friendly task performed, Morewood went on,
"You're friends again, aren't you?"
"Well, partly. He spoke to me last night for almost the first time."
"What was the quarrel?"
"I told him his manners were bad; and he proved how right I was by
getting into a temper." She was silent a moment. Morewood saw her smile
and then frown in apparent vexation. Then she looked down at him suddenly
and said, "But then--if you'd heard him last night!"
"There it is again!" said Morewood. "That's what annoys me so. In common
with most of mankind, I like to be able to label a man and put him in his
compartment."
"That's just what you can't do with Mr. Quisante."
A loud merry boyish laugh sounded from the shrubbery behind him. Then
Lady Richard came out, attended by young Fred Wentworth, son of that John
whose name had been put in when the Dean's was scratched out owing to a
suspicion of whimsy-whamsies.


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