reality. When had she lived so fully as when she knew from Hubert's
lips the meaning of his love for her--of her love for him? Life would be
dull and gray indeed if it contained no memory of those exquisite,
passionate moments! For these, the rest of her existence was a mere
setting; and for these she knew well enough that she was glad that she
had lived.

Thus she sat thinking, with her cheek upon her hand and the tears wet
upon her long dark lashes; and she did not hear the footsteps of any one
approaching until her father touched her on the shoulder and said--

"Cynthy, here's visitors!"

Then she looked up. At first she saw only the ruddy, face and reddish
hair of the admirable MacPhail, and she rose to her feet with an
impatient little sigh. After MacPhail came another neighbor--a tall thin
man with a military bearing, generally known as "the Colonel," though it
was not clear that he had ever held any rank in the army. And after
these two a stranger followed--also a tall man, thin, dark, grave, with
eyes that seemed to Cynthia like those of one who had returned from
beyond the grave.

A start like a sort of electric shock ran through Cynthia's frame. It
was impossible for her to speak, to do more than extend her hand in
silence to each of the new-comers. And then she looked once more upon
her lover's face--upon the face of Hubert Lepel. In the presence of her
father and the two comparative strangers, she could not even utter a
word of greeting. Her tongue clave to the roof of her mouth, and she
dared not even raise her eyes.

Hubert seemed at first as tongue-tied as herself; but presently, she
heard him talking in a quiet unobtrusive way, as if he and "the Colonel"
were old friends; and it transpired that the two had met during Hubert's
previous wanderings in America, and that they had seen a good deal of
the world together.

Before long, all four men were busily engaged on a comparison of
America and England and in a discussion on contemporary politics, and
Cynthia was able to devote herself to household duties and the
entertainment of her guests. Hubert was staying in Colonel Morton's
house, she found, and they had met Mr. Westwood and MacPhail when they
were having a long tramp over the hills; and, strangely enough, Westwood
had immediately asked both men to dinner.

It was not until the meal was over and the men had gone out to smoke in
the pleasant piazza, with its clustering vines which adorned the fr