He stopped suddenly, midway in the path they were traversing, and looked straight down at her. There was a ring of deeper feeling in his voice as he spoke:
"I want you to think just as well of me as you can, and I cannot imagine having a more earnest desire than that I might always prove worthy of your kindest thoughts."
There was a tinge of defiance in Jean's manner as she answered him flippantly:
"Don't you think I would be using my time rather aimlessly, Mr. Farr, were I to give it up to thoughts of you?"
An expression of keen displeasure crossed Farr's face.
"I beg your pardon," he said stiffly.
Instantly Jean repented of her foolish words, and was heartily sorry to have wounded her companion, but the slight tremor at her heart warned her that to confess would be unwise.
"I think of you quite as much as you deserve," she ventured with a nervous little laugh, and she began to walk on toward the shrubbery at a brisker pace.
Farr made no immediate rejoinder, and when he spoke again it was in an altered tone.
"There is quite a fragrance to this box-wood, is there not?"