all-important thing in life to belong to a county family, attend the hunt, and look forward to a presentation at Court; they felt suddenly countrified and dull, restricted in aim and interest.

It was while Darsie was still conversing in airy, discursive fashion, and her companions listening with fascinated attention, that footsteps were heard approaching, and Ralph’s tall figure appeared at the end of the path. He was evidently taking a short cut through the grounds, and as Darsie was out of his line of vision, being planted well back among the strawberry plants, he saw only his two sisters, and advanced to meet them with cheerful unconcern.

“Hulloa! Here’s luck! Hasn’t she come?”

“Oh, yes! But it is luck all the same. Look for yourself!” cried Noreen gleefully, pointing with outstretched hand to where Darsie sat, a pale blue figure among a nest of greenery, her little, flushed, laughing face tilted upward on the long white throat, her scattered locks ashine in the sun. With the air of a queen she extended finger-tips crimson with the strawberry juice towards the newcomer, and with the air of a courtier Ralph Percival stooped to take them in his own.

For a moment they stared full into each other’s eyes, while the bewilderment on the young man’s face slowly gave place to recognition.

“Glad to see you again, Princess Goldenlocks! Let me congratulate you on the breaking of the spell. Who was the kind fairy who set you free to appear among us in your rightful guise?”

He spoke like a book; he looked tall and handsome enough to be a prince himself. Darsie forgave him on the instant for his former lack of respect, and bent upon him her most dimpling smile.

“I freed myself. I wove my own spell, and when I was tired of it I broke loose.”

Ralph looked down at her with a slow, quizzical smile.

“You had better be careful! Spells are awkward things to move about. They might alight, you know, on some other shoulders, and not be so easily shaken off!”

His eyes, his voice, added point to the words. It was the first, the very first compliment which Darsie had ever received from masculine lips, and compared with the blunt criticisms of Dan Vernon, she found it wonderfully stimulating.

“Come along, girls!” cried Ralph with a sudden return to a natural, boyish manner. “There’s a whole hour yet 

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