"Lily is not at home," said the old man thoughtfully, noticing the colour in Felix's face; "she has gone out with Alfred on just such a trip as you so kindly propose. She wanted me to come, but I have business at home and could not, so I cannot accompany you. If you are not fixed upon any place, why not go yourself to Hampton Court, where they have gone? You may meet them; I am sure Lily will be pleased to see you." "I should like it above all things in the world," said Felix eagerly; "have they gone by themselves?" "Yes." Felix looked earnestly at the old man. "Thank you, sir, a thousand times. I will go." Old Wheels smiled to himself as he turned into the house, and sat down contentedly to his work--a cart which he was making for Pollypod. "I feel easier now," he said, as he worked. But although Felix went down at once to Hampton Court, and strolled into the palace and the picture-gallery and over the gardens, and stood above the maze to see who were in it, he saw no signs of Lily or Alfred. This occupied him a couple of hours, and then he resolved to go into Bushy Park. "I ought to have gone there at first," he thought. He strolled into the beautiful grounds, and down the grand avenue with its lines of noble chestnut-trees. In the distance he saw a lady on a seat, and a gentleman standing by her. His sight, quickened by love, recognised Lily's form; but the man was not Alfred. He approached slowly, until he was near enough to distinguish more clearly, and a keen pang shot through him as he saw Lily sitting on the garden-seat, and Mr. David Sheldrake bending over her. Alfred was not in sight. CHAPTER XXIV. SELFISH YEARNINGS AND UNSELFISH LOVE. What but pure accident could have brought David Sheldrake and Lily together on this day? There was nothing singular in the meeting, and setting aside the presumption (as hitherto borne out by his actions) that Mr. Sheldrake was Alfred's friend, Hampton Court is open to all the world and his wife, and the chestnut-trees in Bushy Park have a wide renown. They are beautiful through all the year, in and out of blossom; their leaves have shaded many thousands of lovers, and will shade many thousands more; and the story that is as old as the hills has been whispered and acted over and over again to the noble branches that break the sunlight and the moonlight fantastically. And what was there to prevent Mr. Sheldrake having an eye for the beautiful?