Mary had from him such a rose at their every meeting. She might not
wear it back to Palace Gardens--it would not flourish beneath Mrs.
Chater's curiosity; but while they were together she would tuck it in
her bosom, and George tenderly would bear it home and set it in a vase
before him to lend him inspiration as he worked.

It is almost certain that such a part is one for which flowers were
especially designed.



II.

Those splendid steeds, David and Angela, having been duly exercised,
groomed, and turned out to browse upon bun-corn, George rushed at once
upon the matter that was singing within him.

Where he sat with his Mary they were sheltered from any but chance
obtrusion. She had taken off her gloves, and George gave her hands, as
they lay in her lap, a little confident pat. It was the tap of the
baton with which the conductor calls together his orchestra--for this
was a song that George was about to tune, very confident that the
chords of both instruments that should give the notes were in a
harmony complete.

He said: "Mary, do you know what I am going to talk about?"

She had been a little silent that morning, he had thought; did not
answer now, but smiled.