“Please be a noble savage, then.”

“That’s not the style of heathen they develop abroad.”

“Madge told us about the savages that used to live in these mountains, and how bad they were treated,” piped Jennie.

“Poor Lo!  No wonder he went to the bad,” said Graydon, significantly.  “He was never recognized as a man and a brother.”

“And he was unsurpassed in retaliation,” Madge added.

“Considering his total depravity and general innocence, that was to be expected.”

“It turned out to be bad policy.”

“In so far as he was a man he hadn’t any policy.”

“I shall not depreciate the Indians for the sake of argument.  They rarely followed the wrong trail, however.”

“What on earth are you and Madge driving at?” exclaimed Mrs. Muir.

“It matters little at what, but Madge appears to be the better driver,” chuckled Mr. Muir.

“You have a stanch champion in Henry,” said Graydon.

“You wouldn’t have him take sides against a woman?”

“Oh, no, but you have become so abundantly able to take care of yourself that he might remain neutral.”

“When you all begin to talk English again I’ll join in, and now merely remark that I am grateful to you, Madge, for taking care of the children.  Jack was good with the nurse, too, and I’ve had a splendid nap.”

“I’m evidently the delinquent,” laughed Graydon, “and have led the way in a conversation that has been as bad as whispering in company.  What will become of me?  You are not going to church to-night, Madge?”

“I did not expect to.  If your conscience needs soothing—­”

“Oh, no, no.  My conscience has been seared with a hot iron—­a cold one, I mean.  The effects are just the same.”

At the supper-room door they were met by Dr. Sommers, with a world of comical trouble in his face, and he drew Madge aside.

“What’s a man to do?” he began.  “Here’s our choir-leader sick, and the rest won’t chirp without him.  I can’t sing any more than I can dance.  You can—­sing, I mean—­both, for that matter.  I’d give the best cast of a fly I ever had to take you out in a reel.  Well, here’s the trouble.  It’s nearly meeting-time, and what’s a meeting without music?  You can sing—­I’m sure you can.  I’ve heard you twice in the chapel.  Now, it isn’t imposing on good-nature, is it, to ask you to come over and start the tunes for us to-night?  Come now, go with me.  It will be a great favor, and I’ll get even with you before the summer is over.”

Madge hesitated a moment.  She had hoped for a chat with Graydon that evening, which might lead to a better understanding, and end their tendency to rather thorny badinage.  But she heard him chatting gayly with Miss Wildmere and Mr. Arnault in the distance; therefore she said, quietly, “It is time for me to get even with you first.  To refuse would not be nice after the lovely drive you took us the other day.”