herwise
pigeons'--is one of the ingredients. It took nearly a hundred hearts
to produce that small bottle full."

"How do you get pigeons enough?"

"To tell a secret, I get a piece of rock-salt, of which pigeons are
inordinately fond, and place it in a dovecot on my roof. In a few
hours the birds come to it from all points of the compass--east,
west, north, and south--and thus I secure as many as I require.
You use the liquid by contriving that the desired man shall take
about ten drops of it in his drink. But remember, all this is told
you because I gather from your questions that you mean to be a
purchaser. You must keep faith with me?"

"Very well--I don't mind a bottle--to give some friend or other to
try it on her young man." She produced five shillings, the price
asked, and slipped the phial in her capacious bosom. Saying
presently that she was due at an appointment with her husband she
sauntered away towards the refreshment bar, Jude, his companion, and
the child having gone on to the horticultural tent, where Arabella
caught a glimpse of them standing before a group of roses in bloom.

She waited a few minutes observing them, and then proceeded to join
her spouse with no very amiable sentiments. She found him seated on
a stool by the bar, talking to one of the gaily dressed maids who had
served him with spirits.

"I should think you had enough of this business at home!" Arabella
remarked gloomily. "Surely you didn't come fifty miles from your own
bar to stick in another? Come, take me round the show, as other men
do their wives! Dammy, one would think you were a young bachelor,
with nobody to look after but yourself!"

"But we agreed to meet here; and what could I do but wait?"

"Well, now we have met, come along," she returned, ready to quarrel
with the sun for shining on her. And they left the tent together,
this pot-bellied man and florid woman, in the antipathetic,
recriminatory mood of the average husband and wife of Christendom.

In the meantime the more exceptional couple and the boy still
lingered in the pavilion of flowers--an enchanted palace to their
appreciative taste--Sue's usually pale cheeks reflecting the pink of
the tinted roses at which she gazed; for the gay sights, the air, the
music, and the excitement of a day's outing with Jude had quickened
her blood and made her eyes sparkle with vivacity. She adored roses,
and what Arabella had witnessed was Sue detaining Jude almo