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"Well, say; maybe you'll tell us who this is we're about to meet up with."

Yes, he thought so; but I believed the glow in his tone was for novels. I extolled the romance of actual life! I denounced that dullness which fails to see the poetry of daily experience, and goes wandering after the mirages of fiction! And I was ready to fight him if he liked. But he agreed with me most cordially.

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"You can do as you're told; understand?" I understood.

"No."

"Maiden passing fair, turn away thine eyes! Turn away thine eyes ere my bosom burn,

She came without her horse, pointing eagerly at the brightness of the sky above the unrisen moon. "Diana!" she whispered, and tossed a kiss toward it. "You saw me put the mare into the stable and go into the house by the back door?"

The reply came slowly. "No; her husband is quite another man; this man's wife has been dead for years. No, Charlotte Oliver lives in--hark!"

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