“It is going to be what they call a nucleus,” said Olive, showing a little piece of fancy work.  “You first crochet this, and then its ultimate character depends on what you may put around it.  It may be a shawl, or a table cover, or even an apron, if you like crocheted aprons.  I learned the stitch last winter.  Would you like me to show it to you?”

“I should like it above all things,” said the secretary.  And together they walked to a rustic bench quite away from the story-telling group.  “So far I have done nothing but nucleuses,” said Olive, as they sat down.  “I put them away when they are finished, and then I suppose some time I shall take up one and make it into something.”

“Like those pastry shells,” said Miss Raleigh, “which can be laid away and which you can fill up with preserves or jam whenever you want a pie.  How many of these have you, Miss Asher?”

“When this is finished there will be four,” said Olive.

At some distance, and near the garden, Dick Lancaster, strolling eastward, encountered Claude Locker, strolling westward.

“Hello!” cried Locker.  “I am glad to see you.  Brought your baggage with you this time, I see.  That means you are going to stay, of course.”

“A couple of days,” replied Dick.

“Well, a man can do a lot in that time, and you may have something to do, but I am not sure.  No, sir,” continued Locker, “I am not sure.  I am on the point of making a demonstration in force.  But the enemy is always presenting some new force.  By enemy you understand me to mean that which I adore above all else in the world, but which must be attacked, and that right soon if her defenses are to be carried.  Step this way a little, and look over there.  Do you see that Raleigh woman sitting on a bench with her?  Well, now, if I had not had such a beastly generous disposition I might be sitting on that bench this minute.  I was deceived by a feint of the opposing forces this morning.  I don’t mean she deceived me.  I did it myself.  Although I had the right by treaty to march in upon her, I myself offered to establish a truce in order that she might bury her dead.  I did not know who had been killed, but it looked as if there were losses of some kind.  But it was a false alarm.  The dead must have turned up only missing, and she was as lively as a cricket at luncheon, and went out in a boat with that tailor’s model—­sixteen dollars and forty-eight cents for the entire suit ready-made; or twenty-three dollars made to order.”

Dick smiled a little, but his soul rebelled within him.  He regretted that he had given his promise to Mrs. Easterfield.  What he wanted to do that moment was to go over to Captain Asher’s niece and ask her to take a walk with him.  What other man had a better right to speak to her than he had?  But he respected his word; it would be very hard to break a promise made to Mrs. Easterfield; and he stood with his hands in his pockets, and his brows knit.