ld doat on the country, if everybody didn't talk of his
honesty there! I have seen the King in London and he is a fine
gentleman."

"And you have seen the Queen also, may be?"

"In truth, yes. Ah, I have shocked you, Simon? Well, I was wrong. Come,
we're in the country; we'll be good. But when we've made a townsman of
you, we'll--we will be what they are in town. Moreover, in ten minutes I
am going home, and it would be hard if I also left you in anger. You
shall have a pleasanter memory of my going than Mistress Barbara's gave
you."

"How shall I find you when I come to town?"

"Why, if you will ask any gentleman you meet whether he chances to
remember Cydaria, you will find me as soon as it is well you should."

I prayed her to tell me more; but she was resolved to tell no more.

"See, it is late. I go," said she. Then suddenly she came near to me.
"Poor Simon," she said softly. "Yet it is good for you, Simon. Some day
you will be amused at this, Simon"; she spoke as though she were fifty
years older than I. My answer lay not in words or arguments. I caught
her in my arms and kissed her. She struggled, yet she laughed. It shot
through my mind then that Barbara would neither have struggled nor
laughed. But Cydaria laughed.

Presently I let her go, and kneeling on my knee kissed her hand very
humbly, as though she had been what Barbara was. If she were not--and I
knew not what she was--yet should my love exalt her and make a throne
whereon she might sit a Queen. My new posture brought a sudden gravity
to her face, and she bent over me with a smile that seemed now tender
and almost sorrowful.

"Poor Simon, poor Simon," she whispered. "Kiss my hand now; kiss it as
though I were fit for worship. It will do you no harm, and--and
perhaps--perhaps I shall like to remember it." She bent down and kissed
my forehead as I knelt before her. "Poor Simon," she whispered, as her
hair brushed mine. Then her hand was gradually and gently withdrawn. I
looked up to see her face; her lips were smiling but there seemed a dew
on her lashes. She laughed, and the laugh ended in a little gasp, as
though a sob had fought with it. And she cried out loud, her voice
ringing clear among the trees in the still evening air.

"That ever I should be so sore a fool!"

Then she turned and left me, running swiftly over the grass, with never
a look behind her. I watched till she was out of sight, and then sat
down on the ground; with twitching