nts carefully put away without his aid, or when his master summoned
him to his room, where he appeared to be just rising as usual from a
sleep as restful as it had been unportentous.

* * * * *

III

* * * * *

"Then I shall leave Bermuda feeling that my beautiful dream is wholly
incomplete."

Mrs. Henry Thatcher spoke with a degree of resignation, but her tone
signified that the apparent retreat was only to gain strength for a
final advance which was sure to gain her point. She knew that this
discussion with her husband would end as all their differences of
opinion ended, and so did he. Perhaps his opposition was the inevitable
expression of his own individuality which every married man likes to
make a pretense of preserving; perhaps it pleased him to see his wife's
half-playful, half-serious attack upon his own judgment in gently
forcing him into a position where her wishes became his desires.

"Better to have your dream incomplete than his privacy invaded," was the
apparently unmoved reply. "When an owner plants a sign, 'Private
Property,' conspicuously at the entrance to his estate, he is sure to
have some idea in the back of his head which is as much to be respected
as your curiosity is to be gratified."

"It is a compliment in itself that we wish to see the grounds," she
persisted; "the owner, whoever he is, could not consider it otherwise."

"A compliment which has evidently been repeated often enough to become a
nuisance--hence the sign."

Marian Thatcher sighed heavily as she threw herself back in the
victoria. Her husband was holding out longer than usual.

"I simply must see the view from that point," she declared; "and until I
can examine that gorgeous _bougainvillea_ at closer range I refuse to
return to New York."

"There!" laughed Edith Stevens, looking mischievously into Thatcher's
face, "that is what I call an ultimatum! Come, Ricky,"--speaking to her
brother--"let us walk back to the hotel. It will be humiliating to see
Marian disciplined in public!"

"You all are making me the scapegoat," Marian protested. "You know that
you are just as eager to get inside those walls as I am. Look!" she
cried, leaning forward in the carriage. "Isn't that-- Yes, it _is_ a
century plant, and it's in bloom! Oh, Harry! you wouldn't make me wait
another hundred years to see that, would you?"

"Let me be the dove of peace," Stevens sugges