Lounging back against a vine-wreathed column and gazing idly at the stars, he kept caroling softly to himself with that indifference to ceremony for which he always found allowance, and which in him had a sort of pleading grace.

At last, springing up: "I want to strike out, hard!" he exclaimed.

"I want to do something violent, to let off steam!" "I 'll tell you what to do, this lovely weather," said Cecilia.

"Give a picnic.

It can be as violent as you please, and it will have the merit of leading off our emotion into a safe channel, as well as yours." Roderick laughed uproariously at Cecilia's very practical remedy for his sentimental need, but a couple of days later, nevertheless, the picnic was given.