wn upon an already
parching earth. And there, too, were the significant clouds, fleecy
white clouds for the most part, but all deepening to a heavy, gray
density. At any moment they might obscure that ruddy light and pour
out their dismal measure of discomfort, turning the world from a
smiling day-dream to a nightmare of drab regret.

Her mood lightened as she turned to the picture of the garden city in
which they lived. It was called a garden city, but, more properly, it
was a beautiful garden village, or hamlet. The place was all hills and
dales, wood-clad from their crowns to the deepest hollows in which the
sandy, unmade roads wound their ways.

Here and there, amidst the perfect sunlit woodlands, she could see the
flashes of white, which indicated homes similar to their own. They
were scattered in a cunningly haphazard fashion so as to preserve the
rural aspect of the place, and constructed on lines that could under
no circumstances offend the really artistic eye. And yet each house
was the last word in modernity; each house represented the
abiding-place of considerable wealth.

Yes, there was something very beautiful in all this life with which
she was surrounded. The pity of it was that there must be those clouds
always hovering. She glanced up at the sky again. And with a shiver
she realized that the golden light had vanished, and a great
storm-cloud was ominously spreading its purplish pall.

At that moment her aunt's voice, low and significant, reached her from
across the room. And its tone told her at once that she was talking to
herself.

"You fool--you poor fool. It awaits you as surely as it awaits
everybody else. Ride on. Your fate awaits you. And thank your God it
is kept hidden from your blinded eyes."

Joan started.

"Auntie!"

A pair of cold, gray eyes lifted to her face. The shaking, bony hands
clutched nervously at the crystal. The eyes stared unseeingly into the
girl's face for some moments, then slowly the fever crept into them
again--the fever which the doctor had warned Joan against.

"Oh, auntie, put--put that away." Joan sprang from her seat and ran to
the other's side, where she knelt imploringly. "Don't--don't talk so.
You--frighten me." Then she hurried on as though to distract the
woman's attention. "Listen to me. I want to tell you about my ride. I
want to tell about----"

"You need tell me nothing. I know it all," Mercy broke in, roughly
pushing the clinging hands from abou