aking another appeal to the mysterious poets, but was interrupted in
the very act of uttering great thoughts by a loud and prolonged laugh
which came echoing from a distant corner of the grounds.

"Lud! but I'd know that laugh anywhere," said Mistress Quekett, whilst
all eyes were turned in the direction whence the merry noise had come.

Half a head taller than any of his friends around him, his lazy blue
eyes scanning from beneath their drooping lids the motley throng around
him, stood Sir Percy Blakeney, the centre of a gaily-dressed little
group which seemingly had just crossed the toll-gate.

"A fine specimen of a man, for sure," remarked Johnnie Cullen, the
apprentice.

"Aye! you may take your Bible oath on that!" sighed Mistress Polly, who
was inclined to be sentimental.

"Speakin' as the poets," pronounced Mr. Clutterbuck sententiously,
"inches don't make a man."

"Nor fine clothes neither," added Master Jezzard, who did not approve of
Mistress Polly's sentimental sigh.

"There's my lady!" gasped Miss Barbara suddenly, clutching Master
Clutterbuck's arm vigorously. "Lud! but she is beautiful to-day!"

Beautiful indeed, and radiant with youth and happiness, Marguerite
Blakeney had just gone through the gates and was walking along the sward
towards the band stand. She was dressed in clinging robes of shimmery
green texture, the new-fashioned high-waisted effect suiting her
graceful figure to perfection. The large Charlotte, made of velvet to
match the gown, cast a deep shadow over the upper part of her face, and
gave a peculiar softness to the outline of her forehead and cheeks.

Long lace mittens covered her arms and hands and a scarf of diaphanous
material edged with dull gold hung loosely around her shoulders.

Yes! she was beautiful! No captious chronicler has ever denied that! and
no one who knew her before, and who saw her again on this late summer's
afternoon, could fail to mark the additional charm of her magnetic
personality. There was a tenderness in her face as she turned her head
to and fro, a joy of living in her eyes that was quite irresistibly
fascinating.

Just now she was talking animatedly with the young girl who was walking
beside her, and laughing merrily the while:

"Nay! we'll find your Paul, never fear! Lud! child, have you forgotten
he is in England now, and that there's no fear of his being kidnapped
here on the green in broad daylight."

The young girl gave a slight shudder