judges.

And one day a chance inspiration came to him. Olivia, his two-year-old
daughter, was accustomed to spend the hour from high noon till one
o'clock with her father while the nursemaid gobbled and digested her
dinner and novelette. About the same time the blank wall was usually
enlivened by the presence of its three small wardens. Octavian, with
seeming carelessness of purpose, brought Olivia well within hail of the
watchers and noted with hidden delight the growing interest that dawned
in that hitherto sternly hostile quarter. His little Olivia, with her
sleepy placid ways, was going to succeed where he, with his anxious well-
meant overtures, had so signally failed. He brought her a large yellow
dahlia, which she grasped tightly in one hand and regarded with a stare
of benevolent boredom, such as one might bestow on amateur classical
dancing performed in aid of a deserving charity. Then he turned shyly to
the group perched on the wall and asked with affected carelessness, "Do
you like flowers?" Three solemn nods rewarded his venture.

"Which sorts do you like best?" he asked, this time with a distinct
betrayal of eagerness in his voice.

"Those with all the colours, over there." Three chubby arms pointed to a
distant tangle of sweet-pea. Child-like, they had asked for what lay
farthest from hand, but Octavian trotted off gleefully to obey their
welcome behest. He pulled and plucked with unsparing hand, and brought
every variety of tint that he could see into his bunch that was rapidly
becoming a bundle. Then he turned to retrace his steps, and found the
blank wall blanker and more deserted than ever, while the foreground was
void of all trace of Olivia. Far down the meadow three children were
pushing a go-cart at the utmost speed they could muster in the direction
of the piggeries; it was Olivia's go-cart and Olivia sat in it, somewhat
bumped and shaken by the pace at which she was being driven, but
apparently retaining her wonted composure of mind. Octavian stared for a
moment at the rapidly moving group, and then started in hot pursuit,
shedding as he ran sprays of blossom from the mass of sweet-pea that he
still clutched in his hands. Fast as he ran the children had reached the
piggery before he could overtake them, and he arrived just in time to see
Olivia, wondering but unprotesting, hauled and pushed up to the roof of
the nearest sty. They were old buildings in some need of repair, and the