ed home after festivities, he paused for a moment
outside her bedroom door because he so often found her awake and waiting
to talk to him if he were inclined to talk--to listen--to laugh
softly--or perhaps only to say good-night in her marvel of a voice--a
marvel because its mellow note held such love.

This time when, after entering the house and mounting the stairs he
reached her door, he found it partly open.

"Come in," he heard her say. "I went to sleep very early and awakened
half an hour ago. It is really morning."

She was sitting up in a deep chair by the window.

"Let me look at you," she said with a little laugh. "And then kiss me
and go to bed."

But even the lovely, faint early light revealed something to her.

"You walk like a young stag on the hillside," she said. "You don't want
to go to sleep at all. What is it?"

He sat on a low ottoman near her and laughed a little also.

"I don't know," he answered, "but I'm wide awake."

The English summer dawn is of a magical clear light and she could see
him well. She had a thrilled feeling that she had never quite known
before what a beautiful thing he was--how perfect and shining fair in
his boy manhood.

"Mother," he said, "you won't remember perhaps--it's a queer thing that
I should myself--but I have never really forgotten. There was a child I
played with in some garden when I was a little chap. She was a beautiful
little thing who seemed to belong to nobody--"

"She belonged to a Mrs. Gareth-Lawless," Helen interpolated.

"Then you do remember?"

"Yes, dear. You asked me to go to the Gardens with you to see her. And
Mrs. Gareth-Lawless came in by chance and spoke to me."

"And then we had suddenly to go back to Scotland. I remember you wakened
me quite early in the morning--I thought it was the middle of the
night." He began to speak rather slowly as if he were thinking it over.
"You didn't know that, when you took me away, it was a tragedy. I had
promised to play with her again and I felt as if I had deserted her
hideously. It was not the kind of a thing a little chap usually
feels--it was something different--something more. And to-night it
actually all came back. I saw her again, mother."

He was so absorbed that he did not take in her involuntary movement.

"You saw her again! Where?"

"The old Duchess of Darte was giving a small dance for her. Hallowe took
me--"

"Does the Duchess know Mrs. Gareth-Lawless?" Helen had a sense of
br