the artist had depicted.
There could be no others like them. Here Enid rode with Launcelot by
her side; on that silvery beach, where the old bleached tree trunk lay
as it must have lain for generations, Vivien had sat at Merlin's feet.
There, in that space carpeted by wind-flowers and primroses, Queen
Guinevere and Launcelot had said their last farewells.

To Kitty the whole beautiful spot was redolent of them. They had been
there, ridden and walked, talked and laughed, loved, wept, and parted;
and in that beauty and mystery and silence it seemed to her that some
day, any day, they all would come again. They were only sleeping
somewhere, waiting for some spell to be removed. She was sure of it, as
sure as she was that King Arthur sat sleeping in his hidden cave,
spellbound until some one, brave and good and strong enough, should find
him and blow a huge blast on the horn which lay on the table before him,
and so waken him from his long magic sleep. In her heart of hearts she
had a secret conviction that some day she would find the magic cave, and
Dan it would be who would possess the power to blow the magic horn.

She pictured herself dressed in flowing robes of white and gold, with
her hair in long plaits reaching to her knees, riding away beside the
king through those very woods, with the sunlight gleaming through the
trees and flashing on the water, and on her other hand would ride Dan in
shining armour, a second Sir Galahad. She saw herself a woman, such a
beautiful, graceful woman, with earnest eyes and gentle face. She saw a
knight, oh! such a splendid, courtly knight, and he looked at her and
looked again, and--

A little way up the hill she sat alone, her chin on her hand, gazing
down at the sun-flecked river, the shining sand, the fairy-like trees,
and saw it all as plainly as though it were then happening. She saw the
graceful steeds, richly caparisoned, daintily picking their way through
underwood and rocks. A stick cracked somewhere near. Could they be
coming? She hardly dared look about her lest she should be
disappointed.

CHAPTER VI.

TEA AT THE FARM.

"Kitty, _are_ you coming, or _are_ you not? It is very mean of you to
keep us waiting all this time when you know how hungry we are!"

With a deep, regretful sigh and a little shake Kitty rose and made her
way to the large flat rock by the water's edge, on which the others had
grouped themselves in more or less easy attitudes, wit