gic hours of a magic day? Which of us
does not know that land, unmapped, unnamed, a land whose sun is
brighter, whose grass is greener, whose sky is bluer, and whose every
road runs into a golden mist? Magic land it must be, for much seeking
cannot find it. No one, not the wisest nor the best, may enter it at
will; but for every one at some time the unseen gate swings open, birds
sing, flowers bloom, the glory and the dream descend! Poor indeed,
unutterably poor and cheated of his heritage is he who has not
passed that way.

They were not in love, of course. They were too happy for that. Love is
the greatest thing in the world, but it is seldom quite happy. Esther
and the doctor were not lovers but lingered in that deliciously
unconscious state of "going-to-be-in-love-presently" which is nothing
less than heavenly. Therefore they ate their lunch with appetite and
laughed about the story of the bear. Both were surprised when the
doctor's watch told them it was time to think of home.

They came back very slowly along the shaded trail to where the car stood
waiting in the brilliant light of the declining sun.

"Just a moment," said the doctor, and cranked vigorously. A confusion of
odd noises ensued, from which, somehow, the right noise did not emerge.

"Just a moment," he repeated. "There appears to be something loose--or
tight--or something. If you'll just sit out on the grass a moment, Miss
Esther, I'll see what it is."

Esther descended. The grass was just as pleasant to sit upon as the car
seat and she knew nothing whatever about the tricky ways of motors.

"Just a moment," said Callandar for the third time, and disappeared
behind the bonnet. Fifteen minutes after, he reappeared with a very hot
face decorated fantastically with black.

"She's sulking," he announced gloomily.

"Is she?" Esther's tone held nothing save placid amusement.

"Just a moment." The doctor banged down the bonnet and effaced himself
once more. This time under the body of the car.

Motors are mysterious things. Why a well-treated, not to say pampered,
car which some hours before had been left in perfect condition and
excellent temper should abruptly turn stubborn and refuse to fulfil its
chief end is a problem which we shall not attempt to solve. Every one
who has ever owned a motor knows that these things be.

The doctor, a modest man, considered himself a fair mechanician. In
expansive moments he, who made nothing of his undoubted e