hose to lose his
heart to such a lovely girl, he must expect to have many rivals.

Erica's first thought, as she glanced at Leslie Cunningham, was one
of disappointment. He was not the least like his father. However, by
degrees she began to like him--for his own sake. He could not have
been more than five-and-twenty, and looked even younger; for he was
fair-complexioned and clean-shaven. His thick, flaxen hair, and rather
pallid face were decidedly wanting in color, but were relieved by very
dark gray eyes. His features were well cut and regular, and the face was
altogether a clever as well as an attractive one.

Erica felt as if she had got into a very delicious new word. The novelty
of a meal AL FRESCO, the lovely view, the beautifully laid out grounds
were charming externals; and then there were the deeper enjoyments
the lovability of her host and hostess; the delightful atmosphere of
broad-hearted sympathy in which they seemed to live and move, and, above
all, the restfulness, the freedom of not living in momentary expectation
of being rubbed the wrong way by a vexing conversation on religious,
or political, or personal topics. It was like a beautiful dream quite
unlike any part of real, waking existence that she had ever before
known. The conversation was bright and lively. They talked because they
had something to say, and wished to say it, and the artificial element
so prevalent in society talk was entirely absent.

Presently Ralph came out of the house, leading a fairy-like little girl
of four years old.

"Here come the children," said Gladys. "The hour before dinner is their
special time. You have not seen Dolly, have you?"

"Dolly!" The name awoke some recollection of the past in Erica, and, as
she kissed the little girl, she looked at her closely. Yes, it was the
same fascinating little baby face, with its soft, pink cheeks and little
pointed chin, its innocent, blue-gray eyes, its tiny, sweet-tempered
mouth. The sunny brown hair was longer and Dolly was an inch or two
taller, but she was undoubtedly the same.

"Now I know why I always felt that I knew your face!" exclaimed Erica,
turning to Donovan. "Was not Dolly lost at Codrington last year?"

"On the beach," replied Donovan. "Yes! Why, could it have been you who
brought her back? Of course it was! Now it all comes back to me. I had
exactly the same feeling about knowing your face the other evening at
Lady Caroline's, but put it down to your likenes