"Well, Marjorie, don't you realise that the facts are all about you, that I----Whatever's the matter?"
A yell broke across the summer air, and Marjorie, springing up, bent over the edge of the crater-like hole. At the bottom lay Orme, his basket beside him, its contents upon him. In a second Marjorie had descended underground, and Mr. Warde was left gazing into space.
When she emerged, Orme was in her arms, muddy tears bedewing his cherubic cheeks. "Fall'd," he announced, in a self-pitying tone, to the visitor.
Marjorie reseated herself, her little brother's head upon her breast. As she comforted him, the man observing her grew more in love than ever. Marjorie, soft and gentle, unconsciously rehearsing Madonna attitudes, gave him a thrill of delight. Presently the boy, his conscience uneasy over neglected work, slipped from her knee, and, with muttered remarks on "er, nasty ground," descended again into its bosom.
He had learnt the imprudence of engaging in another man's labour. Resenting the meaner part of filling the baskets for the more stolid and surefooted Ross to ascend and empty, he had been promptly punished for his ambition. His little soul was now sore with the injustice of things.
"Er, nasty steps slipped poor Orme," he said to Ross, watching his careful ascent.
"You not big anuff," Ross answered importantly. "Go and fill er basket. Do what David bidded you."
Meanwhile Mr. Warde had glanced at his watch. Soon, all too soon, this semi-solitude in which he had been fortunate enough to find Marjorie would be invaded by the schoolboys. He was no nearer the end for which he had come, and he could not again drag in Marjorie's little verse for criticism. She glanced at him, as she drew the alluring book towards her, and said, not too politely:
"If you are going to stay, I'll just fetch my work," rising as she spoke.
"No, Marjorie, don't go. There's something I specially wished to say, to talk to you about," he said, becoming a little confused under her unconscious gaze. Could he, after all, disturb this serenity by the suggestion of love and marriage? He felt somehow that the time was not ripe--that they would seem incongruous to her in connection with himself. And yet, if he did not speak, and be quick about it, another man might step in.