ther tried to make love to me."

He frowned impatiently at her words.

"For Heaven's sake, child," he said, "don't be so cynical! Don't fancy
that every kind word that is spoken to you is spoken for your wealth.
There are sycophants enough in the world, Heaven knows, but there are
men there as well. Give a few the credit of being honest. Try and
remember that you are--"

He looked at her and away again toward the sea.

"That you are," he repeated, "young enough and attractive enough to win
kind words for your own sake."

"Then," she whispered, leaning towards him, "I do not think that I am
very fortunate."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because," she answered, "one person who might say kind things to me,
and whom my money would never influence a little bit in the world, does
not say them."

"Are you sure," he asked, "that you believe that there is any one in
the world who would be content to take you without a penny?"

She shook her head.

"Not that," she said sadly. "I am not what you call conceited enough
for that, but I would like to believe that I might have a kind word or
two on my own account."

She tried hard to see his face, but he kept it steadfastly turned away.
She sighed. Only a few yards behind the maid was walking.

"Mr. Andrew," she said, "it was you whom I meant. Won't you say
something nice to me for my own sake?"

They were nearing the Hall now, and it seemed natural enough that he
should hold her hand for a minute in his.

"I will tell you," he said quietly, "that your coming has been a
pleasure, and your going will be a pain, and I will tell you that you
have left an empty place that no one else can fill. You have made what
our people here call the witch music upon the marshes for me, so that I
shall never walk here again as long as I live without hearing it and
thinking of you."

"Is that all?" she whispered.

He pretended not to hear her.

"I am nearly double your age," he said, "and I have lived an idle,
perhaps a worthless, life. I have done no harm. My talents, if I have
any, have certainly been buried. If I had met you out in the world,
your world, well, I might have taught myself to forget--"

He broke off abruptly in his sentence. Cecil stood before them,
suddenly emerged from the hand-gate leading into the Hall gardens. "At
last!" he exclaimed, taking Jeanne by the hands. "The Princess is
distracted. We have all been distracted. How could you make us so
unhappy?"

She dre