the trowel in his hands at once, and with her
lips curved in a slight smile stood watching his efforts. By almost
imperceptible degrees she drew away from him and, attended by the
devoted Mr. Saunders, sauntered slowly about the garden. The worker,
glaring sideways, watched them as they roamed from flower to flower. The
low murmur of their voices floated on the still air, and once or twice
he heard Miss Hartley laugh with great distinctness.

Apparently engrossed with his task, Mr. Vyner worked cheerfully for ten
minutes. The hand that held the trowel was so far fairly clean, and he
was about to use it to take out a cigarette when he paused, and a broad
smile spread slowly over his features. He put down the trowel, and,
burrowing in the wet earth with both hands, regarded the result with
smiling satisfaction. The couple came toward him slowly, and Mr.
Saunders smiled in his turn as he saw the state of the other's hands.

"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Vyner, standing up as Miss Hartley came
close; "I wish you would do something for me."

"Yes?" said Joan.

"I want a cigarette."

The girl looked puzzled. "Yes?" she said again.

Mr. Vyner, grave as a judge, held up his disgraceful hands. "They are in
a case in the inside pocket of my coat," he said, calmly.

Miss Hartley drew back a pace. "Perhaps Mr. Saunders could help you,"
she said, hastily.

Mr. Vyner shook his head. "His hands are worse than mine," he said,
mournfully.

He held up his arm so that his coat opened a little more, and Miss
Hartley, after a moment's hesitation, thrust a small hand into his
pocket and drew out the case.

"To open it you press the catch," said Mr. Vyner.

Miss Hartley pressed, and the case flew open. She stood holding it
before him, and Mr. Vyner, with a helpless gesture, again exhibited his
hands.

"If you would complete your kindness by putting one in my mouth," he
murmured.

[Illustration: She placed it between his lips with a little jab 094]

For a few moments she stood in a state of dazed indecision; then, slowly
extracting a cigarette from the case, she placed it between his lips
with a little jab that made it a failure, as a smoke, from the first.
Mr. Saunders, who had been watching events with a brooding eye,
hastily struck a match and gave him a light, and Mr. Vyner, with an
ill-concealed smile, bent down to his work again. He was pleased to
notice that though the conversation between the others still proceeded,