ed aloft, filled the sunny air with rich, throaty warblings
and fluty trills and flourishes. Here Sergeant Tring, ever a man of
his hands, had contrived and built a rustic arbour (its architecture
faintly suggestive of a rabbit-hutch and a sentry-box) of which he was
justly proud.

Now Major d'Arcy despite his many battles had an inborn love of peace
and quietness, of the soft rustle of wind in leaves, of sunshine and
the mellow pipe of thrush and blackbird, hence it was not at all
surprising that he should develop a sudden fancy for strolling, to and
fro in his orchard of a sunny afternoon, book in hand, or, sitting in
the Sergeant's hutch-like sentry-box, puff dreamily at pipe of clay, or
again, tucking up his ruffles and squaring his elbows, fall to work on
his History of Fortification; and if his glance happened to rove from
printed page or busy quill in a certain direction, what of it? Though
it was to be remarked that his full-flowing peruke was seldom askew and
the lace of his cravat and the ruffles below the huge cuffs of his
Ramillie coat were of the finest point.

It was a hot afternoon, very slumberous and still; flowers drooped
languid heads, birds twittered sleepily, butterflies wheeled and
hovered, and the Major, sitting in the shady arbour, stared at a
certain part of the old wall, sighed, and taking up his pipe began to
fill it absently, his gaze yet fixed. All at once he sprang up,
radiant-eyed, and strode across the smooth grass.

The faded sun-bonnet was not; her black hair was coiled high, while at
white brow and glowing cheek silken curls wantoned in an artful
disorder, moreover her simple russet gown had given place to a rich,
flowered satin. All this he noticed at a glance though his gaze never
wandered from the witching eyes of her. Were they blue or black or
dark brown?

"Sir," said she, acknowledging his deep reverence with a stately
inclination of her shapely head, "I would curtsey if I might, but to
curtsey on a ladder were dangerous and not to be lightly undertaken."

Quoth the Major:

"It has been a long time--a very long time since you--since I--er--that
is--

"Exactly five days, sir!"

"Why--ah--to be sure these summer days do grow uncommon long, mam--

"Which means, sir, that you've wanted me?"

The Major started:

"Why er---I--indeed I--I hardly know!" he stammered.

"Which proves it beyond all doubt!" she nodded serenely.

The Major was silent.

"Then, sir," she