shimmering coronet about her head. There was a flutter of lace at
her throat, and little fluffs of it at her wrists. She was more
beautiful, more than ever like the queen of a kingdom as she stood
before him now. And she was alone. He saw that in his first swift
glance.

"You didn't eat the prunes?" she asked, and for the first time he
saw a bit of laughter in her eyes.

"No--I--I kicked the fire from under them," he said.

He caught the significance of her words, and her sudden sidewise
gesture. A short distance from them was a small tent, and on the
grass in front of the tent was spread a white cloth, on which was
a meal such as he had not looked upon for two years.

"I am glad," she said, and again her eyes met his with their glow
of friendly humour. "They might have spoiled your appetite, and I
have made up my mind that I want you to have dinner with me. I
can't offer you pie or doughnuts. But I have a home-made fruit
cake, and a pot of jam that I made myself. Will you join me?"

They sat down, with the feast between them, and the girl leaned
over to turn him a cup of tea from a pot that was already made and
waiting. Her lovely head was near him, and he stared with hungry
adoration at the thick, shining braids, and the soft white contour
of her cheek and neck. She leaned back suddenly, and caught him.
The words that were on her lips remained unspoken. The laughter
went from her eyes. In a hot wave the blood flushed his own face.