h, mounting the steps and looking at her letter as she
did so, was confronted by somebody who started up in surprise from the
bench where she had sat with her flowers that autumn day.

For one surprised moment she and the stranger faced each other, then
Miss Bentley exclaimed, "I saw the wagon at the gate, but I didn't know
it was yours." And then the mischief faded into simple honest gladness
as she held out her hand. "I certainly did not expect to see you," she
added, "but you are an unexpected sort of person."

"Nothing so wonderful as the chance of meeting you occurred to me for a
moment," the Candy Man assured her. "In fact I was not certain you cared
to see me." Those same pleasant eyes, so emphatically not the eyes of
Augustus, looked into hers questioningly.

Margaret Elizabeth held up the letter. "It was shipwrecked," she said.
"I got it only a few minutes ago. I haven't read it. I thought it was
you who didn't care to be friends."

The Candy Man did not exactly understand how a letter could be
shipwrecked in an overland journey of ten hours, but he dismissed it as
of no importance. "It isn't worth reading now," he said. "It was just
to make my adieus and ask if some time when I had lived down my past,"
here he smiled, "I might come back and tell you my strange story. I was
counting on your willingness to be friends. You remember you said it
would do no harm to hope."

"Oh, did I? And when you did not hear from me, what did you think?
Honestly," asked Margaret Elizabeth.

"I thought of course there must be a reason. A shipwreck did not occur
to me."

"Do you mean a reason for not being friends? But you came."

"The suspense was too much for me. I haven't many friends; and besides,
this is on the way to Texas."

"So you are going to Texas this time?"

It seemed the Candy Man had heard of an opening there.

Margaret Elizabeth wanted to ask why he had come to the park, but
something told her not to; instead she said, looking away to the shining
river, "I know of no reason why we should not be friends. So I am ready
to hear the story you speak of. Is it more strange than the adventures
of a Candy Wagon?" Her eyes came back and met his as they had done the
day when the conversation turned upon fairy godmothers. Margaret
Elizabeth was not spoiled.

"It is more serious," was his reply. "In fact, it is very serious.
The Candy Wagon was a mere episode. What I wish to tell you now goes
deeper."

CH