and
when he did he saw by the last gleam of sunlight that it was not only
his face that was wet.

Mr. James Turnbull had all his life professed a profound interest in
physical science, and the phenomena of a good garden were really a
pleasure to him; but after three-quarters of an hour or so even the
apostle of science began to find rhododendrus a bore, and was somewhat
relieved when an unexpected development of events obliged him
to transfer his researches to the equally interesting subject of
hollyhocks, which grew some fifty feet farther along the path. The
ostensible cause of his removal was the unexpected reappearance of his
two other acquaintances walking and talking laboriously along the
way, with the black head bent close to the brown one. Even hollyhocks
detained Turnbull but a short time. Having rapidly absorbed all the
important principles affecting the growth of those vegetables, he jumped
over a flower-bed and walked back into the building. The other two came
up along the slow course of the path talking and talking. No one but
God knows what they said (for they certainly have forgotten), and if I
remembered it I would not repeat it. When they parted at the head of the
walk she put out her hand again in the same well-bred way, although it
trembled; he seemed to restrain a gesture as he let it fall.

"If it is really always to be like this," he said, thickly, "it would
not matter if we were here for ever."

"You tried to kill yourself four times for me," she said, unsteadily,
"and I have been chained up as a madwoman for you. I really think that
after that----"

"Yes, I know," said Evan in a low voice, looking down. "After that we
belong to each other. We are sort of sold to each other--until the stars
fall." Then he looked up suddenly, and said: "By the way, what is your
name?"

"My name is Beatrice Drake," she replied with complete gravity. "You can
see it on my certificate of lunacy."

XIX. THE LAST PARLEY

Turnbull walked away, wildly trying to explain to himself the presence
of two personal acquaintances so different as Vane and the girl. As he
skirted a low hedge of laurel, an enormously tall young man leapt over
it, stood in front of him, and almost fell on his neck as if seeking to
embrace him.

"Don't you know me?" almost sobbed the young man, who was in the highest
spirits. "Ain't I written on your heart, old boy? I say, what did you do
with my yacht?"

"Take your arms off my nec