all helped by their presence to make up the sum of my enjoyment.""I am so glad the day has been a success--to you at least. Are you looking at that old turret, darling? There is such a beautiful view of the gardens from one of those windows?" This last suggestively."Is there?" I answer, with careless indifference. Then, good-naturedly, "I think I would like to see it.""Would you?" much gratified. "Then come with me."In his heart I know he is rejoiced at the prospect of a _tete-a-tete_ alone with me--rejoiced, too, at the chance of getting rid for a while of all the turmoil and elegant bustle of the crowd.I go with him, down the garden path, through the shrubberies, up the stone steps, and into the large hall, past immodest statues and up interminable stairs, until we reach the small round chamber of which he speaks.I run to the window and look down eagerly upon the brilliant scene below; and certainly what meets my eyes rewards me for the treadmill work I have undergone for the purpose.Beneath me lie the gardens, a mass of glowing color, while far beyond them as the eye can reach stretches the wood in all its green and bronze and brown-tinged glory. Upon the right spreads the park soft and verdant. Below me the gayly-robed guests pass ceaselessly to and fro, and the sound of their rippling laughter climbs up the old ivy-covered walls and enters the window where I stand."Oh, how lovely it is?" I cry, delightedly. "Oh, I am so glad I came! How far away they all appear, and how small!"Marmaduke is watching me with open content: he never seems to tire of my many raptures.Suddenly I lean forward and, with flushed cheeks, follow the movement of one of the guests, who hitherto has been unnoticed by me."Surely--surely," I cry, with considerable excitement, "that is Sir Mark Gore."Marmaduke stares. "Sir Mark is here," he says. "Do you know him?""Of course I do," I answer, gayly, craning my neck farther out of the window, the better to watch my new-old acquaintance; "that is, a little. What a handsome man he is! How odd he should be here today!""I don't see the oddness of it," rather coldly. "I have known him intimately for many years. How did you become acquainted with him, Phyllis?""Oh," I say, laughing, "our first meeting was a very romantic affair--almost as romantic as my second interview with you." I say this with a glance half shy, half merry; but Mr. Carrington does not seem as much alive to my drollery as usual. "Billy and I had ridden into Carston--I on the old white pony, you know--and just as we came to the middle of the High street, Madge shied at a dead sheep, my saddle turned, and but for Sir Mark Gore, who happened to be passing at the moment, I would certainly have fallen off. He rushed to the rescue, caught me in his arms, and deposited me 

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