y life in the shallows! How splendid to
win through and stand on the far bank with the quiet band of strong
workers, even though no one knew aught of the struggle, instead of
being lauded to the skies by the playing butterflies!

Only, what could she do; ah, what?

A wave of hopelessness seemed to seize upon her, and back across her
mind like a lash cut the dictum of the strong, rigid man, "A
millionaire's daughter can generally be pretty useful if she likes."

Of course, signing cheques, cheques, cheques--a mere machine--and
never to get in touch with the deep need, the inarticulate sorrow of
the world that her soul ached to comfort. It would seem that even to
him, the figure of bronze, it was what she should seek as her
_metier_. She almost wondered if somewhere in his heart he had a
faint contempt for her, because she was a millionaire's daughter: a
product of the new regime; someone who could not be permitted to stand
in the same light as the women of his ancient, illustrious name; who
had no part with the proud, patrician ladies of his great family.

She rose to her feet suddenly, feeling unaccountably hurt by the
thought, and her eyes roved half unconsciously, and fixed themselves
upon the spot where the scarlet petals of the Kaffir boom showed
blood-red against the ancient northern wall. The ache in her heart
coloured all her mind for the moment, shutting out the glad sunshine
with its golden evening glow resting tenderly upon the granite blocks,
showing her only the splashes of scarlet like blood upon the ancient
walls. Was it the altar of sacrifice? Did the Kaffir boom shed its
great red flowers for ever, like drops of blood upon the altar of the
world's pain?

The sound of a step upon broken stones roused her suddenly; a man's
firm tread close beside her. She looked round slowly as it stood
still, and with the ache and the question lingering in her face, found
herself looking into blue eyes of a disconcerting directness--the eyes
of the soldier-policeman.

"I saw you from the Acropolis Hill," he said, "and so I came."

No word of why he had not come sooner; no explanation of his presence
on the Acropolis Hill when she had a right to expect him with her; no
preliminaries at all, no self-conscious excuses, no apparent
realisation that he had behaved a little oddly; only the simple,
direct announcement, "I saw you, so I came."

Yet there was something more--a vague intangible something, that made
the di