ousand times more fair. How well I remember
the day--the golden sunshine, the fragrant wind, the blooming flowers,
as I rode forth to win my love! It seemed to me that the summer skies
smiled on me, and the singing birds wished me joy.

The way to Harden Manor lay through green, flowery lanes and a shady
highroad. It seemed long because my heart sighed to be with her; yet
short because I was so uncertain what to say, and how my wooing would
end.

I reached the manor at last. Sir John was from home. Lady Thesiger and
Agatha were busily engaged in making pretty fancy articles for a grand
fancy fair that was to be held--for the benefit of some out-of-the-way
people--by special permission of His Grace the Duke of Fairholme in the
grounds of Fairholme Castle.

Lady Thesiger looked up when I entered, with a smile.

"Good morning, Sir Edgar; I am very glad to see you. Agatha and I were
just wishing we had a gentleman to help us. Are you willing to assist us
for a day?"

My face flushed hotly with delight.

"Am I willing to give myself a day of Utopian delight, Lady Thesiger?
Most certainly. I will do anything--I can be very useful. I can mount
drawings, frame photographs, sketch and design, and my humble talents
are all yours."

Then Agatha looked at me, and the glance of those eyes was so sweet I
almost lost myself.

"The Cherokee Indians, or whatever they are called, will be much obliged
to you," she said. "I cannot call working for them 'Utopian delight;' my
fingers ache with this stiff cardboard."

"You willfully misunderstand me, Miss Thesiger; the delight consists in
being with you, not in working for the Cherokees. Save that I shudder
when I hear that they have eaten a missionary, they have no particular
interest for me."

Lady Thesiger smiled.

"You must work, not talk, Sir Edgar. Sit down here, pray, and if you
think Miss Trevelyan will be uneasy, I will send a servant to tell her
that you will remain here for lunch and for dinner."

"I prepared her for that emergency; now give me something to do for the
Cherokees."

My hands were soon filled. It was pleasant sitting there in that
fragrant, sunny drawing-room, with two of the most gracious and graceful
women in England. Yet it was hard. I had gone there purposely to tell
the story of my love, and now I was condemned to sit for hours by
Agatha's side and say nothing to her.

"Perhaps fortune may favor me," I thought; "Lady Thesiger may leave the
roo