ilence, he said, "Then I suppose I must go."

It is possible she did not hear him; she seemed engrossed, bending a
little closer over the book on her knee, for the shadows of blossom and
foliage above had crept across the printed page.

All the silence was in tremulous vibration with the hum of bees; the
perfume of the flowers grew sweeter as the sun sank towards the west,
flinging long, blue shadows over the grass and asphalt.

A gray squirrel came hopping along, tail twitching, and deliberately
climbed up the seat where she was sitting, squatting beside her, paws
drooping in dumb appeal.

"You dear little thing!" said the girl, impulsively. "I wish I had a
bonbon for you! Have you anything in the world to give this half-starved
squirrel, Mr. Tennant?"

"Nothing but a cigarette," muttered Tennant. "I'll go out to the gate if
you--" He hesitated. "They generally sell peanuts out there," he added,
vaguely.

"Squirrels adore peanuts," she murmured, caressing the squirrel, who had
begun fearlessly snooping into her lap.

Tennant, enchanted at the tacit commission, started off at a pace that
brought him to the gate and back again before he could arrange his own
disordered thoughts.

She was reading when he returned, and she cooled his enthusiasm with a
stare of surprise.

"The squirrel? Oh, I'm sure I don't know where that squirrel has gone.
Did you really go all the way to the gate for peanuts to stuff that
overfed squirrel?"

He looked at the four paper bags, opened one of them, and stirred the
nuts with his hand.

"What shall I do with them?" he asked.

Then, and neither ever knew exactly why, she began to laugh. The first
laugh was brief; an oppressive silence followed--then she laughed
again; and as he grew redder and redder, she laughed the most
deliciously fresh peal of laughter he had ever heard.

"This is dreadful!" she said. "I should never have come alone to the
Park! You should never have dared to speak to me. All we need to do now
is to eat those peanuts, and you have all the material for a picture of
courtship below-stairs! Oh, dear, and the worst part of it all is that I
laugh!"

"If you'd let me sit down," he said, "I'd complete the picture and eat
peanuts."

"You dare not!"

He seated himself, opened a paper bag, and deliberately cracked and ate
a nut.

"Horrors! and disillusion! The idol of the public--munching peanuts!"

"You ought to try one," he said.

She stood it for a while