she knew he loved her. He had kissed her
fingers and the palm of her hand, but tonight out in the starlit garden
he meant to kiss her lips. The resolve was iron in him. He hardly
heard what the other two were saying. He was living in a world of his
own. April, weary of Kenna's cruel heckling, turned to him for a
moment's relief, and what she saw in his eyes was wine and oil for her
weariness, but it made her afraid, not only because of the perilous
longing in her to give him all he asked, but because Kenna sat alert as
a lynx for even a smile she might cast that way. It was very certain
that no opportunity would be given them for being a moment together;
and divining something of Sarle's resolute temper, she could not help
miserably wondering what would happen when it came to a tussle of will
between the two men.

However, even the careful plans of first-class lynxes go awry
sometimes. A waiter came to the table to say that Kenna was wanted on
the telephone.

"Tell them I'm engaged," was the curt answer.

"It's his Honour Judge Byng, sir," said the waiter in an awed manner,
"and I have already told him you were at dinner. He says it is most
important."

Kenna glared at the man, then at his companions. The latter appeared
placidly indifferent. April sipped her wine, and her eyes roamed round
the room whilst she exchanged idle talk with Sarle. But the moment
Kenna's back was turned indifference fell from them; they looked at
each other eagerly like two school-children in a hurry to take
advantage of the teacher's absence.

"Darn him!" muttered Sarle. "I wish Byng would keep him all night."

"He will be back directly," she said breathlessly. Sarle glanced at
the plates. They were only at the fish.

"He's got to finish his dinner, I suppose," he said grudgingly. "But
can't we escape afterwards? I want to show you the garden."

"He's sure to stay with us," she answered tragically.

"Oh--but to Halifax with him!" began Sarle.

"I know, but we mustn't offend him," she implored hastily. "He . . .
he's such a good fellow."

"Of course I realize he is an old friend of yours, and likes to be with
you, and all that," Sarle conceded. "But so do I. I want to show you
the garden . . . by myself." He looked pleadingly and intently into
her eyes until her lids fell and a soft flush suffused her cheeks. His
glance drank in every detail of her fresh, sweet beauty.

"What's that funny little patch of wh