ss his eyes, as
though to shut out some intolerable sight. And then, with a soft little
rush she was standing beside him.

"How--how do we get the cushions?" she demanded breathlessly.

Stephen Fane dropped his arm, and Daphne drew back a little at the
sudden blaze of wonder in his face.

"Oh," he whispered voicelessly. "Oh, you Loveliness!" He took a step
toward her, and then stood still, clinching his brown hands. Then he
thrust them deep in his pockets, standing very straight. "I do think,"
he said carefully, "I do think you had better go. The fact that I have
tried to make you stay simply proves the particular type of rotter that
I am. Good-by--I'll never forget that you came back."

"I am not going," said Daphne sternly. "Not if you beg me. Not if you
are a devil out of hell. Because you need me. And no matter how many
wicked things you have done, there can't be anything as wicked as going
away when some one needs you. How do we get the cushions?"

"Oh, my wise Dryad!" His voice broke on laughter, but Daphne saw that
his lashes were suddenly bright with tears. "Stay, then--why, even I
cannot harm you. God himself can't grudge me this little space of
wonder--he knows how far I've come for it--how I've fought and struggled
and ached to win it--how in dirty lands and dirty places I've dreamed of
summer twilight in a still garden--and England, England!"

"Didn't you dream of me?" asked Daphne wistfully, with a little catch of
reproach.

He laughed again, unsteadily. "Why, who could ever dream of you, my
Wonder? You are a thousand, thousand dreams come true."

Daphne bestowed on him a tremulous and radiant smile. "Please let us get
the cushions. I think I am a little tired."

"And I am a graceless fool! There used to be a pane of class cut out in
one of the south casement windows. Shall we try that?"

"Please, yes. How did you find it, Stephen?" She saw again that thrill
of wonder on his face, but his voice was quite steady.

"I didn't find it; I did it! It was uncommonly useful, getting in that
way sometimes, I can tell you. And, by the Lord Harry, here it is. Wait
a minute, Loveliness--I'll get through and open the south door for
you--no chance that way of spoiling the frock." He swung himself up with
the swift, sure grace of a cat, smiled at her--vanished--it was hardly a
minute later that she heard the bolts dragging back in the south door,
and he flung it wide.

The sunlight streamed into the deep hal