closely that only those in contact with his daily life suspected what he
hid.

"He will surprise us all some day," Dacre placidly reflected. "Those
quiet, ambitious chaps always soar high. But I wouldn't change places.
with him even if he wins to the top of the tree. People who make a
specialty of hard work never get any fun out of anything. By the time
the fun comes along, they are too old to enjoy it."

And so he lay at ease in his chair, feasting his eyes upon his young
wife's grave face, savouring life with the zest of the epicurean,
placidly at peace with all the world on that night of dreams.

It was growing late, and the moon had topped the distant peaks sending a
flood of light across the sleeping valley before he finally threw away
the stump of his cigar and stretched forth a lazy arm to draw her to
him.

"Why so silent, Star of my heart? Where are those wandering thoughts of
yours?"

She submitted as usual to his touch, passively, without enthusiasm. "My
thoughts are not worth expressing, Ralph," she said.

"Let us hear them all the same!" he said, laying his head against her
shoulder.

She sat very still in his hold. "I was only watching the moonlight," she
said. "Somehow it made me think--of a flaming sword."