"I suppose that there are times when they are of some use," said Farr, "although men are so hopelessly selfish."
"I would not think of contradicting you," Jean laughingly averred. "Come, we are talking a great deal, and not making much headway, and it must be growing late."
"I am all tangled up in this maze of by-paths. In which direction is the parsonage from here?"
"If you don't mind climbing a stone wall, we can turn to our right, and take a short cut, and we will be there in no time."
Farr agreed, and they walked on in silence until they had emerged from the shrubbery into a small clearing, skirted on the further side by a wall, its line broken at a certain point where some stones had been thrown down. Farr sprang lightly across, and turned back to assist Jean. Just then the moon, which had slipped under a cloud, shone out again, its soft rays falling directly on the girl's face. She had one foot already on the first stepping stone when he put up his hand to stay her.
"Well," she asked, as he did not speak. "What is it? Are you not going to help me?"
"Of course I am, but," leaning a little toward her, "this wall is a sort of a Rubicon. Once crossed we cannot go back, for we are then in the parsonage grounds. It has been a pleasant walk, and one to be remembered, has it not?"
"Yes," she murmured, with a quick indrawing of her breath.
"I wish——" he began impetuously.
"Mr. Farr," she interposed with gentle decision, "will you please help me over."