here was a bundle of fur in a big chair in the
sunlight, dark against the white hills beyond, with their black lines of
pine-trees. As the impetuous steps came nearer, it turned, and--the
Governor's methods were again such that words do them no justice. But
this time with happier result. Half an hour later, when some coherency
was established, he said:

"You waited for me! You've been _waiting_ for me!" as if it were the
most astonishing fact in history. "And since when have you been waiting
for me, you--"

Lindsay laughed, not only with her eyes, but with her soft voice. "Ever
since the morning after, your Excellency. Alice told me all about it
before I left, and made me see reason. And I--and I was right sorry I'd
been so cross. I thought you'd come some time--but you came right slow,"
she said, and her eyes travelled over his face as if she were making
sure he was really there.

"And I never dared to think you would see me!" he said. "But now!"

And again there were circumstances that are best described by a hiatus.

The day after, when Mary Mooney, discreetly letting her soul's idol get
into his library before greeting him, trotted into that stately chamber
with soft, heavy footsteps, she was met with a kiss and a bear's hug
that, as she told Mrs. Rudd later, "was like the year he was nine."

"I didn't bring her, Mary," the Governor said, "but you'd better let me
stay, for she's coming."

THE LITTLE REVENGE

Suddenly a gust of fresh wind caught Sally's hat, and off it flew, a
wide-winged pink bird, over the old, old sea-wall of Clovelly, down
among the rocks of the rough beach, tumbling and jumping from one gray
stone to another, and getting so far away that, in the soft violet
twilight, it seemed as lost as any ship of the Spanish Armada wrecked
long ago on this wild Devonshire coast.

"Oh!" cried Sally distractedly, and clapped her hands to her head with
the human instinct to shut the stable door after the horse is gone.
"Oh!" she cried again; "my pretty hat! And _oh_! it's in the water!"

But suddenly, out of somewhere in the twilight, there was a man chasing
it. Sally leaned over the rugged, yellowish, grayish stone wall and
excitedly called to him.

"Oh, thank you!" she cried, and "That's so good of you!"

The hat had tacked and was sailing inshore now, one stiff pink taffeta
sail set to the breeze. And in a minute, with a reckless splash into the
dashing waves, the man had it, and an easy