d to be true that the radiant
small person in the green muslin frock with the wreath of golden hair
bound about her head, and the sea-blue eyes laughing back at her, was
really Miss Daphne Chiltern. Incredible, incredible luck to look like
that, half Dryad, half Kate Greenaway--she danced down the turf path to
the herb-garden, swinging her great wicker basket and singing like a
small mad thing.

"He promised to buy me a bonnie blue ribbon,"

carolled Daphne, all her own ribbons flying,

"He promised to buy me a bonnie blue ribbon,
He promised to buy me a bonnie blue ribbon
To tie up--"

The song stopped as abruptly as though some one had struck it from her
lips. A strange man was kneeling by the beehive in the herb-garden. He
was looking at her over his shoulder, at once startled and amused, and
she saw that he was wearing a rather shabby tweed suit and that his face
was oddly brown against his close-cropped, tawny hair. He smiled, his
teeth a strong flash of white.

"Hello!" he greeted her, in a tone at once casual and friendly.

Daphne returned the smile uncertainly. "Hello," she replied gravely.
The strange man rose easily to his feet, and she saw that he was very
tall and carried his head rather splendidly, like the young bronze Greek
in Uncle Roland's study at home. But his eyes--his eyes were
strange--quite dark and burned out. The rest of him looked young and
vivid and adventurous--but his eyes looked as though the adventure were
over, though they were still questing.

"Were you looking for any one?" she asked, and the man shook his head,
laughing.

"No one in particular, unless it was you."

Daphne's soft brow darkened. "It couldn't possibly have been me," she
said in a rather stately small voice, "because, you see, I don't know
you. Perhaps you didn't know that there is no one living in Green
Gardens now?"

"Oh, yes, I knew. The Fanes have left for Ceylon, haven't they?"

"Sir Harry left two weeks ago, because he had to see the old governor
before he sailed, but Lady Audrey only left last week. She had to close
the London house, too, so there was a great deal to do."

"I see. And so Green Gardens is deserted?"

"It is sold," said Daphne, with a small quaver in her voice, "just this
afternoon. I came over to say good-by to it, and to get some mint and
lavender from the garden."

"Sold?" repeated the man, and there was an agony of incredulity in the
stunned whisper. He flung out