"Thank you, Jim." "Oh, they’re most engaging eyes, Diana." "More thanks, thank you!" "I mean that they tip up a trifle—just a trifle, Japonette." "They don’t!" "They do. Like a pretty Japanese girl’s. Only yours are blue.... They’re very blue—unusually—like the sky—that sort of blue." "Young man," she said with mock seriousness, "don’t you know what comes of speculating in ladies’ eyes?" "Bankruptcy of the heart," he nodded. "Then choose some safer and preferred stock, please." He lay smiling up at her, watching the shades of expression varying in her youthful face—watching the delicate shape of her mouth, which had always fascinated him with its unspoiled purity. "Do you know," he said, partly to himself, "that when I first set eyes on you, Japonette, I knew I had never seen anything half as beautiful." "You didn’t think so long," she returned, laughing. "Christine is goddess of beauty just now." "I have always thought so," he repeated. "Then—why don’t you ever say it to me?" His smile changed a little. "What would be the use of my telling you that you are beautiful?" "Use?" "What good would it do for me to become sentimental over your beauty?" "Lots of good—to me, Jim. You can’t tell a girl too often that she is pretty—when you really think so.... And I almost believe you do think so." She glanced at him sideways, laughed a little, then her blue eyes wandered and she leaned back, pensive, twisting a green oak leaf between idle fingers. "Do you know," he said after a moment, "that, just now, you are like Japonette again. I haven’t seen you so like the real Japonette for a long while." "How _can_ I be Japonette again? I lack the sandals and butterfly sash and the peonies over my ears, Jim. And—that was about all you saw in Japonette, wasn’t it?" "Almost all. Her face was only a shadowy flower against the sunshine, and its enchantment turned the world to fairyland." "Alas! the spell was temporary. The victim of my spells fled to the roof, and told me stories about starlings and—and children.... But, somehow, I let him get away from me, and I don’t know how to find him again." Edgerton watched her. She had plaited a sash out of green oak leaves and fitted it around her slender waist; and now, absently, she was placing in her hair, above each little close-set ear, a scarlet wood lily. Presently she caught his eye, and made him a pretty gesture. [Illustration: "Presently she caught his eye, and made him a pretty gesture."] "You see I am trying my best to return with you to yesterday.... It is a long path—back over the hours and minutes to yesterday, back to a land of dreamy suns and forgotten skies, and unremembered thoughts.... Shall I try to guide you?" "Yes," he said, not smiling. "We may lose our way among the phantoms," she warned him gayly; then became preternaturally solemn, resting her chin in one hand.