fed lazily. Once a herd of fallow deer browsing by the wayside
scuttled away at the noisy approach of the brakes. Only afterward
did Paul learn their name and nature: to him then they were mythical
beasts of fairyland. Once also the long pile-of the Tudor house came
into view, flashing-white in the sunshine. The teacher in charge of
the brake explained that it was the Marquis of Chudley's residence.
It was more beautiful than anything Paul had ever seen; it was
bigger than many churches put together; the word "Palace" came into
his head--it transcended all his preconceived ideas of palaces:
yet in such a palace only could dwell the radiant and sweet-smelling
lady of his dream. The certainty gave him a curious satisfaction.

They arrived at the spot where the marquees were erected, and at
once began the traditional routine of the school treat-games for the
girls, manlier sports for the boys. Lord Chudley, patron of the
living of St. Luke's, Bludston, and Lord Bountiful of the feast, had
provided swing-boats and a merry-go-round which discoursed infernal
music to enraptured ears. Paul stood aloof for a while from these
delights, his eye on the section of the girls among whom his goddess
moved. As soon as she became detached and he could approach her
without attracting notice, he crept within the magic circle of the
scent and lay down prone, drinking in its intoxication, and, as she
moved, he wriggled toward her on his stomach like a young snake.

After a time she came near him. "Why aren't you playing with the
other boys?" she asked.

Paul sat on his heels. "Dunno, miss," he said shyly.

She glanced at his rapscallion attire, blushed, and blamed herself