through which the shadows wove themselves an obscuring veil, He kept
seeing butterflies and chasing them with his sight.

'Can you tell me if this house is occupied?' he asked abruptly of an
old gentleman who coughed suddenly behind him.

It was an explanation as well as a question, for the passer-by had
surprised him in a remarkable attitude. He was standing on tiptoe upon
the parapet of brick, pulling himself up above the fence by his hands,
and his hat had fallen into the road.

'The shrubberies are so dense I can't see through them,' he added,
landing upon his feet with a jump, a little breathless. He felt rather
foolish. He was glad the stranger was not Minks or one of his fellow
directors. 'The fact is I lived here as a boy. I'm not a burglar.'

But the old gentleman--a clergyman apparently--stood there smiling
without a word as he handed him the fallen hat. He was staring rather
intently into his eyes.

'Ahem!' coughed Mr. Rogers, to fill an awkward gap. 'You're very kind,
sir,' and he took the hat and brushed the dust off. Something brushed
off his sight and memory at the same time.

'Ahem' coughed the other, still staring. 'Please do not mention it---'
adding after a second's pause, to the complete amazement of his
listener, 'Mr. Rogers.'

And then it dawned upon him. Something in the charming, peace-lit face
was strangely familiar.