ly solitude droning under an azure
sky. There were beach birds running in flocks down the sand as the
white-ridged foam receded; overhead an Indian file of pelicans winged
briskly out to sea.

On the broad, hard beach to the north presently appeared a
music-machine. Piebald horse, broad, eccentric wagon, cymbals and
drum--there was no mistaking the outfit, nor the minstrel himself with
his broad-brimmed sombrero tipped protectively over his nose.

Now despite the fact that the Baron had hinted that Ronador's
masquerade was at an end, the music-machine steadily approached and
halted. The minstrel alighted and fell stiffly to turning the crank,
whereupon with a fearful roll of the drum and a clash of cymbals, the
papier-mache snake began to unfold and "An Old Girl of Mine" emerged
from the cataclysm of sound and frightened the fish hawks over the
shallow water. A great blue heron, knee-deep in water, croaked with
annoyance, flapped his wings and departed.

When the dreadful commotion in the wagon at last subsided, the minstrel
came through the trees and sweeping off his sombrero, bowed and smiled.

"Merciful Heavens!" exclaimed the girl, staring.

It was Mr. Poynter.

"I'm sorry," regretted Mr. Poynter. "I'm really sorry I feel so
well--but I've got a music-machine." And seating himself most
comfortably by the fire, with a frankly admiring glance at his corduroy
trousers, silken shirt and broad sombrero, he anxiously inquired what
Diane thought of his costume. Indeed, he admitted, that thought had
been uppermost in his mind for days, for he'd copied it very faithfully.

"It's ridiculous!" said Diane, "and you know it."

There, said Mr. Poynter, he must disagree. He didn't know it.

"Well," said Diane flatly, "to my thinking, this is considerably worse
than blowing a tin whistle on the steps of the van!"

Mr. Poynter could not be sure. He said in his delightfully naive way,
however, that a music-machine was a thing to arouse romance and
sympathy with conspicuous success, that more and more the moon was
getting him, and that he did hope Diane would remember that he was the
disguised Duke of Connecticut. Moreover, his most tantalizing
shortcoming up-to-date had seemed to be a total inability to arouse
said romance and sympathy, especially sympathy, for, whether or not
Diane would believe it, even here in this land of flowers he had
encountered frost! Wherefore, having personal knowledge of the success