"Let us rest a little while," said Lord Canning. "I should like to sit in this mysterious glen and listen to the falls as we hear them now—on the bridge they were too deafening." They sat down beneath one of the immense pines, which looked down on the falls. Lord Canning closed his eyes and leaned back on the deep green moss. It was a spot where the sun seldom penetrated. "I christen these the Magic Falls," he said, after a few moments, in which Indiana idly plucked the moss. "Listening to them one loses all sense of past or future. Here, just before we reach the falls—but in view of them, within sound of them, before we are carried away by their impetuous rush, rendered dizzy and blinded by their thunder and spray—one can rest. This is one of life’s lulls. We all deserve to rest one day in a spot like this, deeply shaded and carpeted with moss, within sound of the Magic Falls. Here the world stops, for once,—the world, with all its pros and cons, its clear and valuable logic, of which one grows very weary. The world itself must tire sometime of its plentiful stock of common sense. Then, I christen this The World’s Rest." *CHAPTER IX.* *In an Orchard of the Memory* When Lord Canning and Indiana finally rejoined the others, they were made the subject of much reproval and interrogation. "Blame me, Mrs. Bunker!" said Lord Canning. "Dinner is a fact that I had forgotten." "Apparently," answered Mrs. Bunker, who looked wonderfully well pleased considering her impatience. "That is something new for you, Thurston. You always used to be quite punctilious in the matter of meals." "Indeed, Uncle Nelson!" "Lord Canning has lost his memory for the time being," explained Indiana. "He is just a trifle demented—by his own confession." "Don’t be alarmed, good people!" said Lord Canning, with a far-away look. "I belong to the harmless variety. Miss Stillwater, who is my keeper for the present, can testify to that." "Oh yes, quite harmless! He has only one delusion. He believes that he has discovered the Adirondacks, and he christens everything that he sees, with a name of his own." As they made their way to the wagon, Lord Canning read an indescribable expression on his uncle’s face, which amused him greatly. "Thurston never went on like this at the country houses we visited in England," reflected Lord Stafford, on the homeward drive. "It seems that people act differently abroad from their manner at home." "Don’t take the old road home, Indiana!" cried Mrs. Bunker as they started. "It’s too long."