then threw himself into a chair and
stared thoughtfully at the floor.

CHAPTER XXII

THE TOBACCO HOUSE AGAIN

The master of Verney Manor and his guests slept late, for the carouse of
the night before had been deep and prolonged. The master's daughter rose
with the sun, and went down into the garden, and thence through the
wicket into the mulberry grove, where she found Margery sitting on the
ground, tying golden-rod to her staff. "Come and walk with me, Margery,"
she said.

Margery rose with alacrity. "Where shall we go?" she asked in a whisper.
"To the forest? There were eyes in the forest last night, not the great,
still, solemn eyes that stare at Margery every night, but eyes that
glowed like coals, and moved from bush to bush. Margery was afraid, and
she left the forest, and sat by the water side all night, listening to
what it had to say. A star shot, and Margery knew that a soul was on its
way to Paradise, where she would fain go if only she could find the
way.... There are purple flowers growing by the creek between the cedar
wood and the marsh. Let us go gather them, and trim Margery's staff very
bravely."

"I care not where we go," said her mistress. "There as well as
elsewhere."

"Come, then," said Margery, and took the lead.

When they had entered the strip of cedars which lay between the wide
fields and the point of land on which stood the third tobacco house,
Patricia stopped beneath a great tree. "We will go no further, Margery,"
she said.

Margery objected. "The purple flowers grow by the water side."

"Do you go and gather them then," said Patricia wearily. "I will wait
for you here."

Margery glided away, and her mistress sat down upon the dark-red earth
at the foot of the tree. There was a cold and sombre stillness in the
wood. The air smelt chill and dank, and the light came through the low,
closely woven roof of foliage, as though it were filtered through crape,
but at the end of the vista of trees shone a glory of sea and sky and
gold-green marsh. Patricia gazed with dreamy eyes. "It is all fair," she
said. "What was it that Dr. Nash read? 'My lines are fallen in pleasant
places.' Riches and honor, and, they say, beauty, and many to love
me.--O Lord God! I wish for happiness!" She laid her cheek against the
cool earth, and the splendor before her wavered into a mist of rose and
azure. "Why should I weep," she said, "that my lines are laid in
pleasant places?"

Margery with h