"Better ask the robin in yonder budding chestnut tree, Monsieur. This is
not an hour for hard questions!"

"Ah, you are very cruel! You drive me back to poor, melancholy Franzel,
who is indeed a funeral in himself."

"That is very sad, Monsieur,"--and she smiled at him with mischief in her
eyes. "My heart goes out to any one who is left to mourn--alone."

He gathered his reins and drew up his horse, lifting his hat with a
perfect gesture.

"There are sadder blows than losing one's sovereign, Mademoiselle!" and
he shook his bared head mournfully and rode back to find his friend.

She sought now her favorite bridle-paths and her heart was light with the
sweetness and peace of the spring as she heard the rush and splash of the
creek, saw the flash of wings and felt the mystery of awakened life
throbbing about her. The heart of a girl in spring is the home of dreams,
and Shirley's heart overflowed with them, until her pulse thrilled and
sang in quickening cadences. The wistfulness of April, the dream of
unfathomable things, shone in her brown eyes; and a girl with dreams in
her eyes is the divinest work of the gods. Into this twentieth century,
into the iron heart of cities, she still comes, and the clear, high stars
of April nights and the pensive moon of September are glad because of
her.

The groom marveled at the sudden changes of gait, the gallops that fell
abruptly to a walk with the alterations of mood in the girl's heart, the