tle air of letting
him see that she was not of the enemy, "I do hope some day you'll tell
me all about it; it sounds so romantic."

The young man gave an inarticulate sound, and stroked his ruddy beard to
conceal a smile. "It's not," he said briefly. He put his cap back on his
head and looked down the street as though his thoughts were already
away.

His lack of responsiveness came, Lydia thought, from her having wounded
his feelings. "Oh, I'm sure you must have some good reason for doing
such a _queer_ thing," she said hurriedly. Then, appalled by the words
on which the haste of her good intentions had carried her, "Oh, I mean
that it's very brave, heroic, of you to have the courage--perhaps
something very sad happened to you, and to forget it you--"

The other broke into the laugh he had been trying to suppress. His gray
eyes lighted up brilliantly with his mirth. "You're very kind," he said,
"you're very kind, but rather imaginative. It doesn't take any courage;
quite the reverse. And it's not a picturesque way of doing a retreat
from active life. I hope and pray that it's to be a way of getting into
it."

The girl's face of bewilderment at his tone moved him to add, a ripple
of amusement still in his voice, "Ah, don't try to make me out. I don't
belong in your world, you know; I'm real."

Lydia continued to look at him blankly. The obscurity of his remarks was
in no way lessened by this last addition, but he vouchsafed no further
explanation. "You've given me my breakfast," he said, holding up the
grapes; "I mustn't keep you any longer from yours."

He waited for a moment for Lydia to respond to this speech, struck by a
sudden realization that it might sound like an unceremonious hint to her
to retire, rather than the dismissal of himself he intended. When she
made no answer, he turned away with a somewhat awkward gesture of
leave-taking. Lydia looked after him in silence.

CHAPTER V

THE DAY BEGINS

She watched him until he was out of sight, and although the vigorous,
rhythmic swing of his broad shoulders was like another manifestation of
the morning's joyous, buoyant spirit, it did not move her to a
responsive alertness. After he had turned a corner, she lowered her eyes
to the cluster of grapes she still held; a moment after, without any
change in expression, she relaxed her grasp on them and let them fall,
turning away and walking soberly back to the house. The dew had already
disappeared fro