his contemplated invasion of Newport, Lenox, and Bar Harbor. And one very
lovely afternoon in May, when the Park from his windows looked like a
green forest, and puff on puff of perfumed air fluttered the curtains at
his opened windows, he picked up his gloves and stick, put on his hat,
and went out to walk in the Park; and when he had walked sufficiently he
sat down on a bench in a flowery, bushy nook on the edge of a bridle
path.

Few people disturbed the leafy privacy; a policeman sauntering southward
noted him, perhaps for future identification. The spectacle of a well-
built, well-groomed, and fashionable young man sitting moodily upon a
park bench was certainly to be noted. It is not the fashion for
fashionable people to sit on park benches unless they contemplate self,
as well as social, destruction.

So the policeman lingered for a while in the vicinity, but not hearing
any revolver shot, presently sauntered on, buck-skinned fist clasped
behind his broad back, squinting at a distant social gathering composed
entirely of the most exclusive nursemaids.

The young man looked up into the pleasant blue above, then his
preoccupied gaze wandered from woodland to thicket, where the scarlet
glow of Japanese quince mocked the colors of the fluttering scarlet
tanagers; where orange-tinted orioles flashed amid tangles of golden
Forsythia; and past the shrubbery to an azure corner of water, shimmering
under the wooded slope below.

That sense of languor and unrest, of despondency threaded by hope which
fair skies and sunshine and new leaves bring with the young year to the
young, he felt. Yet there was no bitterness in his brooding, for he was a