"There's a prettier path to the Brow up the glen—crossing the rustic bridge," observed Jem. "But of course you know."
"Oh, I know it all. I have spent so many of my holidays here—only not very lately. That is my favourite ramble. But it is supposed to be too lonely for me, with only Cyril; and somehow nobody is ever free to escort us."
"Why, I go alone anywhere," said Jean.
Jem's glance went from the one to the other. "That is different," he remarked; and then he turned again to Evelyn, audacious though embarrassed. "If you would not mind—Jean and I would gladly act escort. The glen is perfect just now. You really ought to see it. I have been the whole round this morning."
"Thanks!" in a considering tone.
"Jean and I are cousins," apologetically. "So I thought—"
"A sort of cousins," corrected Jean, trained in habits of rigid accuracy.
"My father was first cousin to Jean's father, so Jean and I are 'seconds.' It is a convenient tie where people suit; and Jean and I do suit; so perhaps—"
"Perhaps, on the strength of it, we may count ourselves acquainted."
"There is General Villiers as well to vouch for my respectability."