all, why should Aunt Peace know? Why not have just one little secret,
all to herself? The daring of it almost took her breath away, but in
that single, dramatic instant, she decided.

No one was in sight, and Iris, in the shadow of a maple, tucked the
letter safely away in her stocking, fancying she heard it rustle as she
walked.

In her brief experience of life there had seldom been so long a day. The
hours stretched on interminably, and she was never alone. She did not
forget the letter for a moment, and when she had once become accustomed
to the wonder of it, she was conscious of a growing, very feminine
curiosity.

A little after ten, when she had dutifully kissed Aunt Peace good night,
she stood alone in her room with her heart wildly beating. The door was
locked and there was not even the sound of a footstep. Surely, she might
read it now!

By the flickering light of her candle, she cut it at the end with the
scissors, drew out the letter, and unfolded it with trembling hands.

"Iris, Daughter of the Marshes," it began, "how shall I tell you
of your loveliness? You are straight and slender as the rushes,
dainty as a moonbeam, and sweet as a rose of June. Your dimpled
hands make me think of white flowers, and the flush on your
cheeks is like that on the petals of the first anemone.

"Midnight itself sleeps in your hair, fragrant as the Summer
dusk, and your laughing lips have the colour of a scarlet
geranium, but your eyes, my dear one, how shall I write to you
of your eyes? They have the beauty of calm, wide waters, when
sunset has given them that wonderful blue; they are eyes a man
might look into during his last hour in the world, and think his
whole life well spent because of them.

"Do you think me bold--your unknown lover? I am bold because my
heart makes me so, and because there is no other way. I dare
not ask for an answer, nor tell you my name, but if you are
displeased, I am sure I have a way of finding it out. Perhaps
you wonder where I have seen you, so I will tell you this. I
have seen you, more than once, going to the post-office in East
Lancaster, and, no matter how, I have learned your name.

"Some day, perhaps, I shall see you face to face. Some day you
may give me your gracious permission to tell you all that is in
my heart. Until then, remember that I am your knight, that you
are my lady, and th