aithfully to keep it a secret, for
they've been working for days and days and she is distractingly lovely.
With the Sherrill topazes too. And now that she's sold all the sand
mounds, or whatever it is, do you know, Jethro, she's going to drive
Diane north to Jacksonville in the Indian wagon. They start to-morrow
morning. I think it's because they're both so mad about trees and
things--I can't for the life of me make it out. Jethro, Diane will
drive me mad--she will indeed. Well, all I can say, Jethro, is that if
you don't know what I'm talking about you must be very stupid to-night.
No! No! do I ever know, Jethro? He may be here and he may not. He
may be off in Egypt shooting scarabs by now. He was at the farm when
he wrote to me in Indiana. Well, _collecting_ scarabs, then, Jethro.
Why do you fuss so about little things? Isn't it funny--strangest
thing!"

Queen Elizabeth passed on with her aged dandy.

A dark figure by the cypress pool laughed and shrugged. He was a
singular figure, this man by the pool, with a hint of the Orient in his
garb. His robe was of black, with startling and unexpected flashes of
scarlet lining when he walked. Black chains clanked drearily about his
waist and wrists. There was a cunningly concealed light in his filmy
turban which gave it the singular appearance of a dark cloud lighted by
an inner fire. As he wandered about with clanking chains, he played
strange music upon a polished thing of hollow bones. Sometimes the
music laughed and wooed when eyes were kind; sometimes when eyes were
over-daring it was subtly impudent and eloquent. Sometimes it was so
unspeakably weird and melancholy that along with the clanking chains
and the strangely luminous turban, many a careless stroller turned and
stared. So did a slender, turbaned Seminole chief with a minstrel at
his heels.

It was upon this picturesque young Seminole that the eyes of the Greek
by the hibiscus lingered longest, but the eyes of the Bedouin scanned
every line of the minstrel's ragged corduroy with grim amusement.

"A romantic garb, by Allah!" said the Bedouin dryly.

"It has served its purpose," reminded the Greek sombrely. And laughed
with relish.

For the Seminole chief had fled perversely through the lantern-lit
trees, her soft, mocking laughter proclaiming her sex and her mood.

"And still he follows!" boomed the Bedouin. "With or without the
music-machine, he is consistently fatuous."

The man w