thereby takes himself out of this history. I sometimes think that
if he had stayed--but there has never been the lightest
recrimination between us about it, and I am not going to hint one
now.

'Did you read,' asked Dacres, 'what he and the Court poet wrote over
the entrance gate to the big mosque at Fattehpur-Sikri? It's rather
nice. "The world is a looking-glass, wherein the image has come and
is gone--take as thine own nothing more than what thou lookest
upon."'

My daughter's thoughtful gaze was, of course, fixed upon the
speaker, and in his own glance I saw a sudden ray of consciousness;
but Cecily transferred her eyes to the opposite wall, deeply
considering, and while Dacres and I smiled across the table, I saw
that she had perceived no reason for blushing. It was a singularly
narrow escape.

'No,' she said, 'I didn't; what a curious proverb for an emperor to
make! He couldn't possibly have been able to see all his
possessions at once.'

'If you have finished,' Dacres addressed her, 'do let me show you
what your plain and immediate duty is to the garden. The garden
waits for you--all the roses expectant--'

'Why, there isn't one!' cried Cecily, pinning on her hat. It was
pleasing, and just a trifle pathetic, the way he hurried her out of
the scope of any little dart; he would not have her even within
range of amused observation. Would he continue, I wondered vaguely,