Early that same afternoon Eleanor and Nan dropped in at the manor and suggested a game of tennis. The Lawrences acquiesced, and after a search for balls and rackets they wandered down to the courts. Jean stopped behind for a moment to find the children and tell them to follow her, for nurse had begged a holiday and had gone off for the afternoon. The sun's hot rays beat down upon the unshaded courts, discouraging even Nan's enthusiasm; so, after one set played with flagging energy, they threw down their rackets and retired to a pretty little summerhouse, just at the foot of the terrace. By and by, when they were cool again, Eleanor arose and suggested that they should stroll down toward the station to meet Cliff and Dick, who were coming up early. Jean alone demurred. It was sweet and peaceful within the shelter of the little summerhouse, and the prospect of a long hot walk along the dusty road was not tempting. Most opportunely she remembered Helen's injunction in regard to the children, and pleading this excuse she sent the others off with a half-promise that she might join them at the inn later, if nurse should get home in good season. When Jean was alone, she leaned back in her comfortable corner with an air of great contentment. She rested her elbow on the ledge of the seat, and propping her chin in her hand gazed dreamily, unseeingly out across the sunlit lawn. The children were playing under the shade of a widespreading elm, and the clear treble of their young voices was a pleasant accompaniment to her happy thoughts. Now and again, as some look or gesture of Farr's recurred to her with peculiar distinctness, a shy and tremulous joy dawned in her face, and lingered there. Ah, Jean, such moments are indeed golden, when in your dreams all life seems sweet and fair. Do not hasten the inevitable awakening, for with the realization comes ever a sting to make the heart ache and throb. In after days this peaceful scene will live with you, the memory of its happiness haunt and mock you, until you fain would thrust it from you! Meanwhile Valentine Farr was making his way down the terraced pathway in search of Jean, his heart strangely stirred with the thought of the sweet voice that would speak to him, of the pair of blue eyes that would welcome him. Then, as he walked blithely on, there fell on him the shadow of a memory fraught with pain. He threw back his head and drew a deep breath, as he squarely faced the difficulties that lay before him. He knew that before he might dare to hope, before he might dare to speak to Jean, there was much that must be told her, and although his heart grew heavy within him, the look of resolution on his grave face betokened a strong determination to overcome all obstacles so far as lay within his power.