Grace was too comfortable to move. She merely nodded her assent, and went on with her book.
Thus left free to follow her own devices, Helen searched all over the garden for Harold, but without success. She was just giving up the search in despair when she heard a rustling noise inside the shrubbery. Pushing her way amongst the bushes with some difficulty, she came upon a spot that had been cleared, and there she found Harold digging away with might and main. He was so intent upon his work that he did not at first notice her approach, and she watched him with some amusement as he flung down each spadeful of earth, striking it sharply several times with his spade as he did so.
At length he became aware that he was no longer alone, and looked round sharply.
"However did you find me out?" he asked.
"I have been looking for you, and I heard a noise in the shrubbery and guessed that I might find you here."
"I'm glad you've come. I liked you directly I saw you; and you took my part."
Helen was silent. She had rather a wise little head on her shoulders, and an instinct warned her not to discuss his sister's behaviour with Harold.
"Don't you wonder what I'm doing?" he went on.
"You are digging, aren't you?"
"Yes; I come here when I am too angry to do anything else, and I slash away at the earth until I grow quite happy again."