never thought of love. Like other girls she had her dreams of a
possible Prince Charming, young and handsome and debonair. It
never occurred to her that he might be found in the shy, dreamy
recluse of Golden Milestone.

In August came a day of gold and blue. Alice Reade, coming
through the trees, with the wind blowing her little dark love-
locks tricksily about under her wide blue hat, found a fragrant
heap of mignonette under the pine. She lifted it and buried her
face in it, drinking in the wholesome, modest perfume.

She had hoped Jasper would be in his garden, since she wished to
ask him for a book she greatly desired to read. But she saw him
sitting on the rustic seat at the further side. His back was
towards her, and he was partially screened by a copse of lilacs.

Alice, blushing slightly, unlatched the garden gate, and went down
the path. She had never been in the garden before, and she found
her heart beating in a strange fashion.

He did not hear her footsteps, and she was close behind him when
she heard his voice, and realized that he was talking to himself,
in a low, dreamy tone. As the meaning of his words dawned on her
consciousness she started and grew crimson. She could not move or
speak; as one in a dream she stood and listened to the shy man's
reverie, guiltless of any thought of eavesdropping.

"How much I love you, Alice," Jasper Dale was saying, unafraid,
with no shyness in voice or manner. "I wonder what you would say
if you knew. You would laugh at me--sweet as you are, you would