“Yes, sir. Along in June it was, Mr. Ethan, or maybe early in the month following, sir, that he came in quite excited like and wild, saying as he had seen you with his own eyes over toward the grove there. Yes, sir. ‘Jonas,’ says I, ‘it’s the sun.’ ‘No, ’taint,’ says he. ‘I saw him with my own eyes,’ says he, ‘a-standing under the trees. And when I looked again he was gone,’ he says. It gave me quite a shock, sir, as you might say.” [Illustration] “Naturally. And since then you have observed no other symptoms?” “No, sir, not particular, but he do seem a heap fonder of his victuals than he used to, and I’ve heard tell as that’s a sure sign of a failing intellect, Mr. Ethan.” “In the case of your victuals, Mrs. Billings,” replied Ethan, “I’d say it was an indication of wisdom.” The housekeeper bridled and beamed. “But, really,” continued Ethan, smiling, “I wouldn’t worry about Billings. The fact is, I was down here for a day or so about the time you speak of.” “Here, sir? And you never came to see us, sir?” “There――er――there were reasons, Mrs. Billings. And now how about that fire? And send your husband out to unlock the carriage house, please.” “Yes, sir, directly, sir. And Jonas really saw you, Mr. Ethan, same as he said he did?” “I think it more than likely, Mrs. Billings.” “Well, that’s a great load off my mind, sir. Softening of the brain do be so unfortunate!” Later, just at dusk, Ethan emerged from the library on to the broad cement-paved porch at the side of the house. Pausing to light a cigarette, he passed down the stone steps to the pergola and traversed its length. Fallen leaves rustled softly under his feet and the purple clusters showed the effects of the frost. Once out of the arbor, his steps led him almost unconsciously across the open lawn, russet now and streaked with the long sombre shadows of the trees. He found himself swayed by two desires; one to see the lotus pool again, the other to avoid it. He went on through the twilight grove, filled with a gentle――I had almost said pleasant――sadness. Underfoot the ground was carpeted with the red leaves of the maples. Here and there a white birch stood like a pale gold flame in the dying sunlight. The dark green larches alone held themselves unchanged. The pool was sadly different. Yellowing lily-pads floated upon the surface, but no blossoms caught the slanting rays of the sun. Ethan sat down under the willow, took his knees into his arms and puffed blue smoke-wreaths into the amber light. Presently a shadow presence came and sat beside him. The presence had violet eyes and red, red lips that smiled wistfully. He didn’t turn his head, for he knew that if he did he would find himself again alone. And presently they talked. [Illustration] “You were very cruel,” he said sadly. “I didn’t mean to be,” she answered. “No, I don’t think you did. You――you just didn’t think, I suppose. It was all a bit of good fun with you. But――it played the deuce with me.”