`Well, we've threshed that subject out, anyhow!' Arthur resumed. `I'm afraid I've been talking too much, for your patience and for my strength. I must be turning soon. This is about the end of my tether.'

`Take, O boatman, thrice thy fee;
Take, I give it willingly;
For, invisible to thee,
Spirits twain have crossed with me!'

I quoted, involuntarily.

`For utterly inappropriate and irrelevant quotations,' laughed Arthur, `you are "ekalled by few, and excelled by none"!' And we strolled on.

As we passed the head of the lane that led down to the beach, I noticed a single figure moving slowly along it, seawards. She was a good way off, and had her back to us: but it was Lady Muriel, unmistakably. Knowing that Arthur had not seen her, as he had been looking, in the other direction, at a gathering rain-cloud, I made no remark, but tried to think of some plausible pretext for sending him back by the sea.

The opportunity instantly presented itself. `I'm getting tired,' he said. `I don't think it would be prudent to go further. I had better turn here.'

I turned with him, for a few steps, and as we again approached the head of the lane, I said, as carelessly as I could, `Don't go back by the road. It's too hot and dusty. Down this lane, and along the beach, is nearly as short; and you'll get a breeze off the sea.'

`Yes, I think I will,' Arthur began; but at that moment we came into sight of Lady Muriel, and he checked himself. `No, it's too far round. Yet it certainly would be cooler --' He stood, hesitating, looking first one way and then the other -- a melancholy picture of utter infirmity of purpose!

How long this humiliating scene would have continued, if I had been the only external influence, it is impossible to say; for at this moment Sylvie, with a swift decision worthy of Napoleon himself, took the matter into her own hands. `You go and drive her, up this way,' she said to Bruno. `I'll get him along!' And she took hold of the stick that Arthur was carrying, and gently pulled him down the lane.

He was totally unconscious that any will but his own was acting on the stick, and appeared to think it had taken a horizontal position simply because he was pointing with it. `Are not those orchises under the hedge there?' he said. `I think that decides me. I'll gather some as I go along.'

Meanwhile Bruno had run on behind Lady Muriel, and, with much jumping about and shouting (shouts audible to no one but Sylvie and myself), much as if he were driving sheep, he managed to turn her round and make her walk, with eyes demurely cast upon the ground, in our direction.

The victory was ours! And, since it was evident that the lovers, thus urged together, must meet in another minute, I turned and walked on, hoping that Sylvie and Bruno would follow my example, as I felt sure that the fewer the spectators the better it would be for Arthur and his good angel.

`And what sort of meeting was it?' I wondered, as I paced dreamily on.