oppers and
glowworms waking their more sleepy fellows to tell them Beatrice was
here and had said she loved him, the birds waiting happily in their
nests till the first kiss sounded, and then tucking in their heads with
a jolly "So _that's_ all right at last!" He wanted to say "Thank you" to
the world of beasts and trees and flowers, and presently to the world of
men and women.

"Smoke, do!" said Beatrice, as he dragged a couple of the chairs upon
the gravel. "And don't interrupt more than you can help. I'll tell you
the essential facts as shortly as I can. Details we can talk over
later ... if there is to be a 'later.'"

He lighted a cigarette and was silent.

"Most of the tale I told you," she began abruptly, "was all lies. Some
was true. I was, for instance, well-off as regards money, when I was
left an orphan at sixteen. I was brought up by some hateful relations
and launched two years later. I got sick of society in a couple of
years, and cut it for pleasanter paths. I tried painting, but it bored
me. Then the stage--that part was true--and made a success....

"It wasn't enough. I wanted more interest, more reality in life. I
didn't find it--I haven't quite found it yet, but I think I'm on the way
to it. I wanted romance, too. I also wanted fun. Oh, yes! I wanted a
lot, there's no doubt about that.... Presently I determined I wanted a
husband....

"Does that sound odd from a girl's lips? Well, it's true, and I don't
care much about anything except truth just now. I set to work
deliberately to find some one I could love and who would love me. Are
you shocked?" she asked quickly.

"No," he said quietly, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Go on."

"So I went husband-hunting. Not much need, you may say, for a girl on
the stage to do that. Of course I had plenty of men running after
me--some beasts, some good sorts. They didn't do. I wanted something
worth loving; a man who was strong, but human; a man with a sense of
humor and not too grown-up for romance--a kind of Admirable Crichton, in
fact. I didn't find him--at all events, not at first.

"This Turkish tale I made up for two reasons,--one, the purely
irresponsible childish enjoyment of a fairy tale--a lark, if you like!
Two, for a test. If my projected benedict could swallow that--believe
it, if possible, but at all events not refuse it because it looked so
silly--well, he would do on the romantic side. But he had to be a man
and a strong man, too; hen