ella could romp, romp so heartily indeed that once or twice he
had to check a whispered rebuke.

But later on when he said good night to her outside his bedroom, he had
an impulse to hug her close for the unimaginable artistry of this little
sister.

Michael and Stella went out next day to explore the forest of Compiegne.
They wandered away from the geometrical forest roads into high glades
and noble chases; they speculated upon the whereabouts of the wild-boars
that were hunted often, and therefore really did exist; they lay deep in
the bracken utterly remote in the ardent emerald light, utterly quiet
save for the thrum of insects rising and falling. In this intimate
seclusion Michael found it easy enough to talk to Stella. Somehow her
face, magnified by the proportions of the surrounding vegetation,
scarcely seemed to belong to her, and Michael had a sensation of a fairy
fellowship, as he felt himself being absorbed into her wide and
strangely magical eyes. Seen like this they were as overwhelmingly
beautiful as two flowers, holding mysteries of colour and form that
could never be revealed save thus in an abandonment of contemplation.

"Why do you stare at me, Michael?" she asked.

"Because I think it's funny to realize that you and I are as nearly as
it's possible to be the same person, and yet we're as different from
each other as we are from the rest of people. I wonder, if you didn't
know I was your brother, and I didn't know you were my sister, if we
should have a sort of--what's the word?--intuition about it? For
instance, you can play the piano, and I can't even understand the
feeling of being able to play the piano. I wish we knew our father. It
must be interesting to have a father and a mother, and see what part of
one comes from each."

"I always think father and mother weren't married," said Stella.

Michael blushed hotly, taken utterly aback.

"I say, my dear girl, don't say things like that. That's a frightful
thing to say."

"Why?"

"Why? Why, because people would be horrified to hear a little girl
talking like that," Michael explained.

"Oh, I thought you meant they'd be shocked to think of people not being
married."

"I say, really, you know, Stella, you ought to be careful. I wouldn't
have thought you even knew that people sometimes--very seldom, though,
mind--don't get married."

"You funny old boy," rippled Stella. "You must think I'm a sort of doll
just wound up to play the piano. I