"Judged at the bar of reason I fear my case is hopeless," protested the
Candy Man, putting out his hand to close the book.

But Margaret Elizabeth clasped it to her breast. "I see nothing
unreasonable in it," she declared stoutly. As she spoke a faded crimson
flower fell in her lap.

Somewhat later in the afternoon, Miss Bentley and the Candy Man,
walking together along the river path, had they not been so engrossed
in their own affairs, might have recognised the tall, stooping figure
of the Miser strolling slowly ahead of them. It was for a minute only,
for near a turn in the path he bent forward and disappeared in a thicket
of althea bushes. At this season it was not a dense thicket, and Mr.
Knight, poking in the soft mould with his cane in search of a certain
tiny plant, had no thought of hiding, but, as it chanced, was unobserved
by his friends.

"Oh, Margaret Elizabeth," her companion was saying as they passed, "you
are so dear! I have no business to be telling you so, but indeed I can't
help it."

And she with a little laugh replied: "I am glad you can't, Candy Man."
And the next moment they were gone around the turn.

That was all, but it was enough. What rarer flower was likely to come
the Miser's way, on this or any day?

He stood and looked after them. These two had brought into his grey