he rose trees--the absence of it this year--and
ventured it. He had again an absurd vision of dropping it into an
enormous cavern, as a pea into an immense bowl, and it seemed to tinkle
feebly and forlornly, as a pea would. "No blight this year, eh?"

"No; is there?" agreed Mabel,--_snip_!

Nevertheless conversation arose from the forlorn pea and was maintained.
They moved about the garden from flower bed to flower bed. In half an
hour the shallow basket was beautified with fragrant blooms and Mabel
thought she had enough.

"Well, that's that," said Sabre as they reentered the morning room.

III

Low Jinks, her matchless training at the level of mysteriously performed
duties pat to the moment and without command, appeared with a tray of
vases. Each vase was filled to precisely half its capacity with water.
There were also a folded newspaper, a pair of small gilt scissors and a
saucer. Low Jinks spread the newspaper at one end of the table, arranged
the vases in a semicircle upon it, and placed the gilt scissors
precisely in alignment with the right-hand vase of the semicircle, and
the saucer (for the stalk ends) precisely in alignment with the
left-hand vase. She then withdrew, closing the door with exquisite
softness. Sabre had never seen this rite before. The perfection of its
performance was impressive. He thought, "Mabel is marvellous." He said,
"Shall I take them out of the basket?"

"No, leave them. I take them up just as I want them."

She took up a creamy rose and snipped off a fragment of stalk over the
saucer. "Why does she call you 'Marko'?"

He was utterly taken aback. If the question had come from any one but
Mabel, he would have quite failed to connect it with the letter. But
there had distinctly been an "incident" over the letter, though so far
closed, as he had imagined, that he was completely surprised.

He said "Who? Nona?"

"Yes, Nona, if you like. Lady Tybar."

"Why, she always has. You know that."

Mabel put the rose into a specimen vase with immense care and touched a
speck off its petals with her fingers. "I really didn't."

"Mabel, you know you do. You must have heard her."

"Well, I may have. But long ago. I certainly didn't know she used it in
letters."

He felt he was growing angry.

"What on earth's the difference?"

"It seems to me there's a great deal of difference. I didn't know she
wrote you letters."

He was angry. "Damn it, she doesn't write me letters."

She