"He's taken about on a wheeled chair or cot. He is too restless to stay in any place very long. He seems more contented outdoors, where he can watch--" She broke off abruptly. "Lovely morning--isn't it? Good-by." She turned about and went up the drive again. Patsy watched her go, a strange, brooding look in her eyes. "So--he likes to be out of doors best--where he can be watching. And if a body chanced to trespass that way--she might come upon him, sudden like, and stay long enough to set him a-thinking. Would it be too late, now, I wonder?" She resumed her way--and her memories. She passed a half-dozen more driveways and she climbed a hill; and when she came to the top she found herself looking down on a thickly wooded hamlet. Spires and gabled roofs broke the foliage here and there, and on the rising slope beyond towered a veritable forest. Patsy stood on the brink of the hill and gazed down long and thoughtfully; at last she flung out her arms in an impetuous gesture of confirmation, while the old, whimsical smile crept into her lips. "'Aye, now am I in Arden, the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place--but travelers must be content.'" And taking a firm grip of her memories, her wits, and her courage, she went down the hill. XIV ENTER KING MIDAS When Patsy at last reached Arden she went direct to the post-office and was there confronted by a huge poster occupying an entire wall: THE SYLVAN PLAYERS Under the Management of Geo. Travis Presenting Wm. Shakespeare's Comedy "AS YOU LIKE IT" In the Forest of Arden, on the Estate of Peterson-Jones, Esq. The date given was Wednesday, the day following; and the cast registered her name opposite Rosalind. "So that's the answer to the letter I wrote, and a grand answer it is. And that's the meaning of Janet Payne's remarks, and I never guessed it." She heaved the faintest wisp of a sigh--it might have been pleasure; it might have been a twinge of pain. "And I'm to be playing the Duke's daughter, after all, at the end of the road." She went to the general delivery and asked for mail. The clerk responded with three letters; Patsy almost whistled under her breath. Retiring to a corner, she looked them over and opened first the one from George Travis: DEAR IRISH PATSY,--You are a lucky beggar, and so am I. Here comes the news of Miriam St. Regis's illness and the canceling of all of her summer engagements in the same mail as your letter. Just think of it! Here you are actually in Arden all ready for me to pick up and put in Miriam's place without having to budge from my desk. The Sylvan Players open with "As You Like It." If the critics like it--and you--as well as I think they will, I'll book you straight through the summer. Felton's managing for me, so please report to him on Monday when he gets there. I may run down myself for a glimpse of your work.