" she added gaily. And
turning on the crouching lynx: "Bad Tommy! Wicked, treacherous,
_bad_--no! _Poor_ old Tom! You are quite right. I'd do the same if I
were trapped and anybody tried to patronize me. I know how you
feel--yes, I do, Tommy Tiger. And I'll tell old Jonas to give you lots
and lots of delicious mud-fish for your dinner to-night--yes, I will, my
friend. Also some lavender to roll on.... Mr. Hamil, you are still
unusually colourless. Were you really afraid?"

"Horribly."

"Oh, the wire is too strong for him to break out," she observed coolly.

"I was not afraid of that," he retorted, reddening.

She turned toward him, smilingly remorseful.

"I know it! I say such things--I don't know why. You will learn how to
take them, won't you?"

They walked on, passing through grove after grove, Alonzo tiptoeing
after them, and when, as a matter of precaution from time to time,
Shiela looked back, the bird pretended not to see them until they passed
the last gate and locked it. Then the great crane, half flying, half
running, charged at the closed gate, dancing and bounding about; and
long after they were out of sight Alonzo's discordant metallic shrieks
rang out in baffled fury from among the trees.

They had come into a wide smooth roadway flanked by walks shaded by
quadruple rows of palms. Oleander and hibiscus hedges ran on either side
as far as the eye could see, and long brilliant flower-beds stretched
away into gorgeous perspective.

"This is stunning," he said, staring about him.

"It is our road to the ocean, about two miles long," she explained. "My
father designed it; do you really like it?"

"Yes, I do," he said sincerely; "and I scarcely understand why Mr.
Cardross has called me into consultation if this is the way he can do
things."

"That is generous of you. Father will be very proud and happy when I
tell him."

They were leaning over the rail of a stone bridge together; the clear
stream below wound through thickets of mangrove, bamboo, and flowering
vines all a-flutter with butterflies; a school of fish stemmed the
current with winnowing fins; myriads of brown and gold dragon-flies
darted overhead.

"It's fairyland--the only proper setting for you after all," he said.

Resting one elbow on the stone parapet, her cheek in the hollow of her
hand, she watched the smile brightening in his face, but responded only
faintly to it.

"Some day," she said, "when we have blown the froth and sp