hink perhaps he is."

She saw him next day in the gardens. They were sitting close to the
Schiller statue, Winton reading The Times, to whose advent he looked
forward more than he admitted, for he was loath by confessions of
boredom to disturb Gyp's manifest enjoyment of her stay. While perusing
the customary comforting animadversions on the conduct of those
"rascally Radicals" who had just come into power, and the account of a
Newmarket meeting, he kept stealing sidelong glances at his daughter.

Certainly she had never looked prettier, daintier, shown more breeding
than she did out here among these Germans with their thick pasterns, and
all the cosmopolitan hairy-heeled crowd in this God-forsaken place! The
girl, unconscious of his stealthy regalement, was letting her clear eyes
rest, in turn, on each figure that passed, on the movements of birds
and dogs, watching the sunlight glisten on the grass, burnish the copper
beeches, the lime-trees, and those tall poplars down there by the water.
The doctor at Mildenham, once consulted on a bout of headache, had
called her eyes "perfect organs," and certainly no eyes could take
things in more swiftly or completely. She was attractive to dogs, and
every now and then one would stop, in two minds whether or no to put
his nose into this foreign girl's hand. From a flirtation of eyes with
a great Dane, she looked up and saw Fiorsen passing, in company with
a shorter, square man, having very fashionable trousers and a corseted
waist. The violinist's tall, thin, loping figure was tightly buttoned
into a brownish-grey frock-coat suit; he wore a rather broad-brimmed,
grey, velvety hat; in his buttonhole was a white flower; his
cloth-topped boots were of patent leather; his tie was bunched out at
the ends over a soft white-linen shirt--altogether quite a dandy! His
most strange eyes suddenly swept down on hers, and he made a movement as
if to put his hand to his hat.

'Why, he remembers me,' thought Gyp. That thin-waisted figure with head
set just a little forward between rather high shoulders, and its long
stride, curiously suggested a leopard or some lithe creature. He touched
his short companion's arm, muttered something, turned round, and came
back. She could see him staring her way, and knew he was coming simply
to look at her. She knew, too, that her father was watching. And she
felt that those greenish eyes would waver before his stare--that stare
of the Englishman of a certa