"Her way and mine are far apart--are far apart. I had better marry Vinie
Mocket." He spoke half aloud and with bitterness, looking from the
window toward Fontenoy. Suddenly the water smarted in his eyes, and he
stretched out his arms. "Oh, pardon, love!" he whispered, "I love but
you--and I'll love you to the end!" His fancy dwelt on Fontenoy. It was
for him enchanted land, the sleeping palace, strongly hedged. "But I am
not the appointed man," he thought. "I am a pauper, and no prince. It is
Ludwell Cary that goes in and out."




CHAPTER VI

RAND COMES TO FONTENOY


"I never dance but by candlelight," remarked Unity. "A Congo in the heat
of the afternoon, a jig before sunset,--la! I had rather plough by
moonlight. As well be a grasshopper in a daisy field! Elegance by
waxlight becomes rusticity in the sunshine,--and of all things I would
not be rustic! Oh, Mr. Cary, I've caught my gown in this rosebush!"

Mr. Fairfax Cary knelt to release the muslin prisoner. "Rusticity
becomes you so that if I were a king, you should dance with me the
livelong day. But I'll not grumble if only you'll dance with me as soon
as the candles are lit! Last night you were all for that booby, Ned
Hunter!"

"He's no booby," said Miss Dandridge. "He is bashful--though, indeed, I