ant enough. Ronald went to see the horses,
inspected the kennels, gladdened the gamekeeper's heart by his keen
appreciation of good sport, rowed on the lake, played a solitary game
at billiards, dined in great state, read three chapters or "Mill on
Liberalism," four of a sensational novel, and fell asleep satisfied
with that day, but rather at a loss to know what he should do on the
next.

It was a beautiful June day; no cloud was in the smiling heavens, the
sun shone bright, and Nature looked so fair and tempting that it was
impossible to remain indoors. Out in the gardens the summer air seemed
to thrill with the song of the birds. Butterflies spread their bright
wings and coquetted with the fragrant blossoms; busy humming bees
buried themselves in the white cups of the lily and the crimson heart
of the rose.

Ronald wandered through the gardens; the delicate golden laburnum
blossoms fell at his feet, and he sat down beneath a large acacia. The
sun was warm, and Ronald thought a dish of strawberries would be very
acceptable. He debated within himself for some time whether he should
return to the house and order them, or walk down to the fruit garden
and gather them for himself.

What impulse was it that sent him on that fair June morning, when all
Nature sung of love and happiness, to the spot where he met his fate?

Chapter III

The strawberry gardens at Earlescourt were very extensive. Far down
among the green beds Ronald Earle saw a young girl kneeling, gathering
the ripe fruit, which she placed in a large basket lined with leaves,
and he went down to her.

"I should like a few of those strawberries," he said, gently, and she
raised to his a face he never forgot. Involuntarily he raised his hat,
in homage to her youth and her shy, sweet beauty. "For whom are you
gathering these?" he asked, wondering who she was, and whence she came.

In a moment the young girl stood up, and made the prettiest and most
graceful of courtesies.

"They are for the housekeeper, sir," she replied; and her voice was
musical and clear as a silver bell.

"Then may I ask who you are?" continued Ronald.

"I am Dora Thorne," she replied, "the lodge keeper's daughter."

"How is it I have never seen you before?" he asked.

"Because I have lived always with my aunt, at Dale," she replied. "I
only came home last year."

"I see," said Ronald. "Will you give me some of those strawberries?" he
asked. "They look so ripe and