purposeful glow, through which played at the smallest excuse a humorous
twinkle.

After the ceaseless stir of the Y.M.C.A. corner, the stillness of the
park was most grateful. At this hour on Sunday, if he avoided the golf
grounds, it was to all intents his own. His objective point was a rustic
arbour hung with rose vines and clematis, where was to be had a view of
the river as it made an abrupt turn around the opposite hills. Here he
might read, or gaze and dream, as it pleased him, reasonably secure from
interruption once he had possession.

The Candy Man breathed deeply, and smiled to himself. It was a day to
inspire confident dreams, for the joy of fulfilment was over the land.
Was it the sudden fear that some other dreamer might be before him, or
a subconscious prevision of what actually awaited him, that caused him
to quicken his steps as he neared the arbour? However it may have been,
as he took at a bound the three steps which led up to it, he came with
startling suddenness upon Miss Bentley entering from the other side,
her arms full of flowers. Their eyes met in a flash of recognition
which there was no time to control. She bowed, not ungraciously, yet
distantly, and with a faint puzzled frown on her brow, and he, as he
lifted his hat, spoke her name, which, as he was not supposed to know
it, he had no business to do; then they both laughed at the way in which
they had bounced in at the same moment from opposite directions.

With some remark about the delightful day, the Candy Man, as a gentleman
should, tried to pretend he was merely passing through, and though it
was but a feeble performance, Miss Bentley should have accepted it
without protest, then all would have been well. Instead, she said, still
with that puzzled half frown, "Don't go, I am only waiting here a moment