was the thought forced upon the
spectator. His own cheek suddenly burned, in the shadow of the wistaria
vines.

He listened abstractedly to the conclusion of the story: it must have
been a charming tale, for the boy's cry of regret when it ended was
eloquent. But the eavesdropper heard with full appreciation the richness
of the low voice and could not wonder at Bob's delight in it. He watched
with absorbed eyes the embrace exchanged between the two and, forgetting
to be cautious, allowed his shifted foot to crunch the gravel under the
window.

Quicker than thought the light went out. Burns made for the office door,
consumed with eagerness to catch her before she could get away. But
when he set foot upon the threshold of his room only the little figure,
pulling itself again erect in the bed, met his eyes in the dim light
issuing from the office, and otherwise the room was empty.

"Nobody heard me cryin' but her," explained Bob to his questioning
guardian. "Cynthia was all goned away and I heard the fiddles and they
made me cry. She comed in and told me stories. I love her. But she
wented awful quick out that way." He pointed toward a French window
opening like a door upon the lawn. "I wish she didn't go so quick. She
looked awful pretty, all white and shiny. She loves me, I think, don't
you?"

"Of course, old man. That's your particular good luck--eh? Now lie down
and go to sleep and tell me all about it in the morning."

"Aren't you going back to the party?" queried Bob anxiously.

"Hardly." Burns glanced humorously down at his attire. "But I'm not
going to bed just yet, so shut your eyes. I'll not be far away."

The child obeyed. Exchanging the claw-hammer for his office coat, Burns
went out by way of the French window to the rear of the house.

An hour afterward Arthur Chester, putting out lights, discovered from a
back window a familiar figure at a familiar occupation. But at this hour
of the night the sight struck him as so extraordinary that, curiosity
afire, he hurriedly let himself out of the side door he had just locked,
and crossed the lawn.

"In the name of all lunatics, Red, why sawing wood? It can't be ill
temper at missing the show?"

In the August moonlight the figure straightened itself and laid down the
saw. "Go to bed, and don't bother your addle pate about your neighbours.
Can't a man cut up a few sticks without your coming to investigate?"

"Saw a few more. You haven't got the full dose