When I was alone again I went to bed, and tried to sleep on my back, with my arms up, in the hope of a true dream; but sleep would not come, and I passed a white night, as the French say. I rose early and walked about the park, and tried to interest my self in the stables till it was breakfast-time. Nobody was up, and I breakfasted alone with Lady Cray, who was as kind as she could be. I do not think she could have found me a very witty companion. And then I went back to the stables to think, and fell into a doze. At about twelve I heard the sound of wooden balls, and found a lawn where some people were playing "croquet." It was quite a new game, and a few years later became the fashion. [Illustration: SWEET AND BITTER MUSIC.] I sat down under a large weeping-ash close to the lawn; it was like a tent, with chairs and tables underneath. Presently Lady Cray came there with the Duchess of Towers. I wanted to fly, but was rooted to the spot. [Illustration: The Introduction.] Lady Cray presented me, and almost immediately a servant came with a message for her, and I was left with the One Woman in the World! My heart was in my mouth, my throat was dry, my pulse was beating in my temples. She asked me, in the most natural manner, if I played "croquet." "Yes--no--at least, sometimes--that is, I never of it--oh--I forget!" I groaned at my idiocy and hid my face in my hands. She asked if I were still unwell, and I said no; and then she began to talk quite easily about anything, everything, till I felt more at my ease. Her voice! I had never heard it well but in a dream, and it was the same--a very rich and modulated voice--low--contralto, with many varied and delightful inflexions; and she used more action in speaking than the generality of Englishwomen, thereby reminding me of Madame Seraskier. I noticed that her hands were long and very narrow, and also her feet, and remembered that Mimsey's were like that--they were considered poor Mimsey's only beauty. I also noticed an almost imperceptible scar on her left temple, and remembered with a thrill that I had noticed it in my dream as we walked up the avenue together. In waking life I had never been near enough to her to notice a small scar, and Mimsey had no scar of the kind in the old days--of that I felt sure, for I had seen much of Mimsey lately. I grew more accustomed to the situation, and ventured to say that I had once met her at Lady Cray's in London. "Oh yes; I remember. Giulia Grisi sand the 'Willow Song.'" And then she crinkled up her eyes, and laughed, and blushed, and went on: "I noticed you standing in a corner, under the famous Gainsborough. You reminded me of a dear little French boy I once knew who was very kind to me when I was a little girl in France, and whose father you happen to be like. But I found that you were Mr. Ibbetson, an English architect, and, Lady Cray tells me, a very rising one"