at I was in
better health there; I was quite ashamed of my dairy-maid appearance."

"You have nothing to amuse you here," said Cairn tenderly; "no
company, for Mr. Saunderson only lives for his orchids."

"They are very fascinating," said Myra dreamily, "I, too, have felt
their glamour. I am the only member of the household whom he allows
amongst his orchids--"

"Perhaps you spend too much time there," interrupted Cairn; "that
superheated, artificial atmosphere--"

Myra shook her head playfully, patting his arm.

"There is nothing in the world the matter with me," she said, almost
in her old bright manner--"now that you are back--"

"I do not approve of orchids," jerked Cairn doggedly. "They are
parodies of what a flower should be. Place an Odontoglossum beside a
rose, and what a distorted unholy thing it looks!"

"Unholy?" laughed Myra.

"Unholy,--yes!--they are products of feverish swamps and deathly
jungles. I hate orchids. The atmosphere of an orchid-house cannot
possibly be clean and healthy. One might as well spend one's time in a
bacteriological laboratory!"

Myra shook her head with affected seriousness.

"You must not let Mr. Saunderson hear you," she said. "His orchids are
his children. Their very mystery enthrals him--and really it is most
fascinating. To look at one of those shapeless bulbs, and to speculate
upon what kind of bloom it will produce, is almost as thrilling as
reading a sensational novel! He has one growing now--it will bloom
some time this week--about which he is frantically excited."

"Where did he get it?" asked Cairn without interest.

"He bought it from a man who had almost certainly stolen it! There
were six bulbs in the parcel; only two have lived and one of these is
much more advanced than the other; it is _so_ high--"

She held out her hand, indicating a height of some three feet from the
ground.

"It has not flowered yet?"

"No. But the buds--huge, smooth, egg-shaped things--seem on the point
of bursting at any moment. We call it the 'Mystery,' and it is my
special care. Mr. Saunderson has shown me how to attend to its simple
needs, and if it proves to be a new species--which is almost
certain--he is going to exhibit it, and name it after me! Shall you
be proud of having an orchid named after--"

"After my wife?" Cairn concluded, seizing her hands. "I could never be
more proud of you than I am already...."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE FACE IN THE ORCHID-HOUSE