hich to dream of heaven; there was hardly a ripple on
the beautiful Thames; the air was balmy, sweet, filled with the scent of
hay from the meadows; of flowers from the banks; it was as though they
had floated away into Paradise.

Lord Chandos bent forward to see that the rugs were properly disposed;
he opened her sunshade, but she would not use it.

"Let me see the beautiful river, the banks and the yews, while I may,"
she said, "the sun will not hurt me."

There was no sound save that of the oars cleaving the bright waters.
Leone watched the river with loving eyes; since she had left River
View--and she had loved it with something like passion--it seemed like
part of that married life which had ended so abruptly. They passed by a
thicket, where the birds were singing after a mad fashion of their own.

"Stop and listen," she said, holding up her hand.

He stopped and the boat floated gently with the noiseless tide.

"I wonder," said Leone, "if in that green bird kingdom there are
tragedies such as take place in ours?"

Lord Chandos laughed.

"You are full of fanciful ideas, Leone," he said. "Yes, I imagine, the
birds have their tragedies because they have their loves."

"I suppose there are pretty birds and plain birds, loving birds, and
hard-hearted ones; some who live a happy life, filled with sunlight and
song--some who die while the leaves are green, shot through the heart.
In the kingdom of birds and the kingdom of men it is all just the same."

"Which fate is yours, Leone?" asked Lord Chandos.

"Mine?" she said, looking away over the dancing waters, "mine? I was
shot while the sun shone, and the best part of me died of the wound in
my heart."

CHAPTER L.

"AS DEAD AS MY HOPES."

The broad, beautiful river widened, and the magnificent scenery of the
Thames spread out on either side, a picture without parallel in English
landscapes. The silvery water, the lights and shades ever changing, the
overhanging woods, the distant hill, the pretty islets, the
pleasure-boats, the lawns, the great nests of water-lilies, the green
banks studded with flowers, the rushes and reeds that grew even on the
water's edge. On they went, through Richmond, Kew, past Hampton Court,
past the picturesque old Hampton windmill, on to one of the prettiest
spots on the river--the "Bells" at Ousely, and there Lord Chandos
fastened the boat to a tree while they went ashore.

Ah, but it was like a faint, far-off dream of