oping bites out of her
square cake, while Robin, planted directly before her, but as
quiveringly as if on coiled springs, watched every bite, snapping his
own jaws each time in acutest sympathy.

"Yes, and two-o tookies, please," laughed the man with a warm feeling of
comfort and sweetness wrapping him round like a soft blanket. "And let's
give it up for a while and be happy."

"Why not?" returned Joyce, obliviously. "Here's the plate of cakes at
your elbow. Eat them all if you will. There are plenty more."

A shriek from Dodo, who has dropped half of hers and seen it
incontinently snapped up and gorged by Robin. Of course the shriek ends
in a choking cough, as her mouth is full, and Mr. Dalton has to snatch
her up and turn her face downwards, while Joyce paddles her little back
till the morsel is ejected. When they have all got their breaths
again--the dog meanwhile having sneaked a whole cake from the plate and
fled to a safe distance--they subside into a restful silence for a
space. George Dalton's hair is somewhat rumpled, and Joyce's cheeks are
red. Neither laughs outright, but both long to. It is a decided relief
from the tension when a maid appears from the other house, and Miss Dodo
is carried off for her nooning nap, kicking vigorously. They sit back
and sip their iced drinks relishingly. The morning is warm and Joyce's
lovelocks are tightly curled against her wet forehead. She mops it
daintily with a bit of cambric and lace, and he watches her silently,
while the branches of the tree above his head sway softly against each
other, and the leaves whisper confidingly way up in the clear ether.

The busy man feels the charm of it as he has seldom felt such things
before, and Joyce feels his pleasure and is glad over it, but secretly
thinks it quite time for him to finish his business and be gone. Her
appearance is far from tidy, and she is half expecting a friend from the
city out to luncheon. At length, in a dreamy way, he takes up the
narrative so often interrupted.

"I was going to give a few more details about the Pole. You knew about
the way he acted in the Social-house--his ravenous ways over the food?"

"Yes, I saw him," shuddering a little.

"He had been starving for three days. The officers were fast on his
track and arrested him hot from the fight. Had he not seen Murfree I
presume he would have made his way back to the woods safely. But they
came in by train just in time to learn of his queer act