urse.
As a matter of course, it was not to be contemplated that she should
rise at dawn for a tete-a-tete breakfast with the guest, at this period
when all the fine elements that composed their relation hesitated at the
point of crystallization. But she scarcely regretted the postponed
interview. It would be better to meet each other differently, at more
leisure. He would come again to the fountain arcade, where she watched
for Corrie's return.

When Flavia reached her own room, there stood on her dressing-table a
long silver-paper and filigree box. Wondering, she raised the lid, to be
met with a gust of exquisite perfume and confronted with a mass of frail
yellow roses, lovely with the quaint, virginal beauty of suggestion that
separates them from all their other-colored kin. Across the glistening
petals lay a cover cut from a pocket dictionary, bearing written upon it
one sentence: "Definition of the meaning of Flavia Rose."

She laid her head beside the flowers, gold upon gold. She, also, the
fancy came to her, had placed this day in the vase of Al-Mansor. But the
day to come outshone it, as a rosy pearl one merely white.

"To-morrow," she whispered to herself. "To-morrow."

VI

WRECK

Gray, sluggish, slow in coming and sullen of aspect, a reluctant dawn
succeeded the night. A wet mist clung everywhere in the windless
atmosphere, muffling sound as well as light. There was not even a
servant stirring in the Rose house, when Gerard descended the dark
stairs and went out into the chill, damp park.

In the garage one bright point shone out; under a swinging electric lamp
Rupert was preparing his machine to go out, a solitary figure in the
expanse of wavering shadows and dim bulks.

"Where are Rose and his man?" Gerard questioned, as he came across the
floor.

His voice rolled startlingly loud in the lofty, echoing room. Moving to
reply, the mechanician let fall a tool and the crash repeated itself
sharply from every stone arch and angle.

"Rose won't be out at the course till late; I guess our peaceful life
ain't what he's used to, exactly. He 'phoned over last night to Dean,
who's sleeping yet."

Gerard nodded, eyeing the Mercury racer with affectionate attention.

"All right, is she?" he asked.

Rupert straightened himself and proceeded to close the hood.

"I ain't supposing we'll need to be towed," he conceded sarcastically.
"But I'll put in a rope, if you're worried bad, and take my copy of