Miss Garland seemed to think that the difficulty of choice between them was a reason for giving them up and turning back.

Rowland thought otherwise, and detected agreeable grounds for preference in the left-hand path.

As a compromise, they sat down on a fallen log.

Looking about him, Rowland espied a curious wild shrub, with a spotted crimson leaf; he went and plucked a spray of it and brought it to Miss Garland.

He had never observed it before, but she immediately called it by its name.