venture when you went out in
that punt, and the mill began working--"

"Why should I tell what you know by heart already? You'd only be
bored."

"Oh, but you never tell a story twice over in the same way," persisted
Clemence with doubtful flattery. "And Mr Leslie has never heard it.
I'm sure he'd be interested. It really _was_ an adventure. So
romantic, too. Ralph Percival is _so_ good-looking!"

"I fail to see what his looks have to do with it," said Darsie in her
most Newnham manner. "Strong arms were more to the purpose, and those
he certainly does possess."

"Strong arms--stout heart!" murmured Lavender in sentimental aside.
"Well, then, tell about the treasure-hunt in the Percivals' garden--and
how you--you know! Go on--that's another _real_ adventure."

"All Miss Darsie's adventures seem to have been in connection with the
Percival family!" remarked the Oxford man at this point.

Darsie flushed with annoyance, and retired determinedly into her shell.
She was seated almost in the centre of the circle, between her father
and John Vernon, and the leaping light of the fire showed up her face
and figure in varying shades of colour. Now she was a rose-maiden,
dress, hair, and face glowing in a warm pink hue; anon, the rose changed
into a faint metallic blue, which gave a ghostlike effect to the slim
form; again, she was all white--a dazzling, unbroken white, in which the
little oval face assumed an air of childlike fragility and pathos. As
she sat with her hands folded on her knee, and her head resting against
the dark cushions of her chair, more than one of the company watched her
with admiration: but Darsie was too much occupied with her own thoughts
to be conscious of their scrutiny.

As each story-teller began his narrative, she cast a momentary glance in
his direction, and then turned back to fire-gazing once more. Once or
twice she cast a curious glance towards the far corner where Dan Vernon
was seated, but he had drawn his chair so far back that nothing could be
distinguished but the white blur of shirt-front. Darsie wondered if Dan
were uninterested, bored, asleep--yet as her eyes questioned the
darkness she had the strangest impression of meeting other eyes--dark,
intent eyes, which stared, and stared--

Vie Vernon was telling "a _most interesting_ coincidence," her opening
sentence--"It was told to me by a friend--a lawyer,"--causing
surreptitious smiles and nudges among her younger hearer