CHAPTER I.
HIS OWN GROUND "Oh, to be a farmer's wife!" Doris Elliot paused, punt-pole in hand, to look across a field of corn-sheaves with eyes of shining appreciation.
Her companion, stretched luxuriously on his back on a pile of cushions, smiled a contemplative smile and made no comment.
The girl's look came down to him after a moment.

She regarded him with friendly contempt.
"You're very lazy, Hugh," she said.
"I know it," said Hugh Chesyl comfortably.
She dropped the pole into the water and drove the punt towards the bank.
"It's a pity you're such a slacker," she said.
He removed his cigarette momentarily.

"You wouldn't like me any better if I weren't," he said.
"Indeed I should--miles!" "No, you wouldn't." His smile became more pronounced.

"If I were more energetic, I should be for ever pestering you to marry me.

And, you know, you wouldn't like that.