At the impertinent words the soft, rich blood suffused Ruth's face.

"Will you sit here awhile and wait for Mr. Arnold, or shall we go and see
the orchids?" The pleasant, deep voice broke in upon her confusion and
calmed her self-consciousness. She raised her eyes to the dark, clever
face above her; it was a strong, rather than a handsome face. From the
broad sweep of the forehead above the steady scrutiny of the gray eyes, to
the grave lip and firm chin under the dark, pointed beard, strength and
gentleness spoke in every line. His personality bore the stamp of a letter
of credit.

"Thank you," said she; "I think I shall sit here. My cousin will probably
be back soon."

The doctor seated himself beside her. Miss Gwynne's appellation was not
inaptly chosen, still he would have preferred to know her more conventional
title.

"This is a peaceful little corner," he said. "Do you notice how removed it
seems from the rest of the room?"

"Yes," she answered, meeting and disconcerting his pleasantly questioning
look with one of swift resolve. "Dr. Kemp, I wish to tell you that my
father has confided to me your joint secret."

"Your father?" he looked bewildered; his knowledge of the Queen of Sheba's
progenitors was vague.

"My father, yes," she repeated, smiling at his perplexity. "Our name is