"Now that I'm a woman again, I should like to get some happiness out of it.
I should like to give happiness, too, full-handed." She flashed up and took
my arm and pressed it. "I could do it, Tony."

"I know you could," said I.

After which the conversation became more intimate. Anybody, to look at us,
as we walked, arm in arm, round the paths of the rose garden, would have
taken us for lovers. Of course she wanted none of my advice. Her frank and
generous nature felt the imperious need of expansion. I, to whom she could
talk as to a sympathetic wooden idol, happened to be handy. I don't think
she could have talked in the same way to a woman, I don't think she would
have talked so even to me, who had taken her pick-a-back round about her
nursery, if I had not with conviction qualified Lackaday as a gallant
gentleman.

Eventually we came down to the practical aspect of a situation, as old as
Romance itself. The valorous and gentle knight of hidden lineage and the
Earl's daughter. Not daring to aspire, and ignorant of the flame he has
kindled in the high-born bosom, he rides away without betraying his
passion, leaving the fair owner of the bosom to pine in lonely ignorance.

"At this time of day, it's all such damn nonsense," said Lady Auriol.

I pointed out to her that chivalrous souls still beautified God's earth and
that such damn nonsense could not be other than the essence of their being.
To this knightly company Colonel Lackaday might well belong. On the other
hand, there was she, the same old proud Earl's daughter. For all her
modernity, her independence, her democratic sympathies, she remained a
great lady. She had little fortune; but she had position and an ancient