"

She raised her hand as an idea came to her half way through this speech.

"Listen! I have an idea that the clew to all of David's mystery is in
that room!"

"Drop that idea, Ruth," he ordered gruffly. "You've seen David on one
rampage, but it's nothing to what would happen if you so much as peeked
into that place. When the servants pass that door they take off their
hats--watch 'em the next time you have a chance. You won't make a slip
about that room?"

"No." But she added: "I'd give my soul--for one look!"

Dinner that night under the stars with the whispering of the fountain
beside them was a ceremony which Connor never forgot. The moon rose late
and in the meantime the sky was heavy and dark with sheeted patchwork of
clouds, with the stars showing here and there. The wind blew in gusts.
A wave began with a whisper on the hill, came with a light rushing
across the patio, and then diminished quickly among the trees down the
terraces. Rough, iron-framed lanterns gave the light and showed the
arcade stepping away on either side and growing dim toward the entrance.
That uncertain illumination made the crude pillars seem to have only the
irregularity of vast antiquity, stable masses of stone. Where the circle
of lantern-light overlapped rose the fountain, a pale spray forever
dissolving in the upper shadow. Connor himself was more or less used to
these things, but he became newly aware of them as the girl sent quick,
eager glances here and there.

She had placed a single one of the great yellow blossoms in her hair and
it changed her shrewdly. It brought out the delicate coloring of her
skin, and to the darkness of her eyes it lent a tint of violet. Plainly
she enjoyed the scene with its newness. David, of course, was the spice
to everything, and his capitulation was complete; he kept the girl
always on an uneasy balance between happiness and laughter. And Connor
trembled for fear the mirth would show through. But each change of her
expression appeared to delight David more than the last.

Under his deft knife the choicest white meat came away from the breast
of a chicken and he heaped it at once on the plate of Ruth. Then he
dropped his chin upon his great brown fist and watched with silent
delight while she ate. It embarrassed her; but her flush had a tinge of
pleasure in it, as Connor very well knew.

"Look!" said David, speaking softly as though Ruth would not hear him.
"How pleasant it is, to be three tog