So, seeing that Stellamaris was a young woman of intrepid and imperious disposition, Herold dutifully took her to the Great Cat's House, where again the child in her was enraptured by the splendour of the striped and tawny brutes. She lingered in front of the lion's cage. The four-o'clock meal was over. The lioness lay asleep in the corner, but her mate sat up, with his head near to the bars, an enormous, cleaned bone between his paws. The absurd and useless animal had struck a photographic pose at which Herold, with a more sophisticated companion, would have laughed. But Stellamaris took the lion too seriously. He fulfilled all her dreams of a lion. She looked in breathless admiration at the lion, and the lion, choke-full of food, regarded her with grave benevolence. Again she pressed Herold's arm. “How noble! How kingly!” He assented. The lion was certainly doing his best to warrant the impression. “He is just like John,” said Stellamaris. “Something,” said Herold, leading her out into the fresh air and sunshine. “That fearless, royal look,” said Stella--“don't you think so?” Before replying, he took her to a shady bench where they both sat down. “John's the finest and the best and the bravest fellow in the world,” said he, loyally. Her eyes shone. She put out her gloved little hand in her familiar, caressing way and pressed his gently. Her maidenhood did not glow at the sisterly touch. “I 'm so happy, my Great High Favourite, dear,” she said. “Why? Why now more than usual?” He smiled wistfully. The sky was blue, and the trees were heavy with leafage, and she had just seen the king of beasts in his most kingly aspect, and he reminded her of the man she loved, and her heart was young and innocent. Herold once more became her chosen companion in the Land That Never Was. She dropped her voice to a whisper, for staring people strolled along the path ten yards away. Besides, there are times when the sound of one's own voice is embarrassing. “You love John, don't you, dear? You love him dearly, dearly, dearly, as he deserves to be loved?” “I would lay down my life for him,” said Herold, gravely. She gripped his hand. “I know. He would do the same for you. Do you think, Walter dear--” she paused and lowered her eyelids, “do you think there's a more splendid man than John in the world?” “I am his friend, Stellamaris, and I'm prejudiced,--Love is blind, you know,--but I don't think so.” She leaned back in her seat and meditated. Then she said: “I wish you and I were sitting by my window. You and I understand each other, but I miss the sea. You and I and the sea understand one another better. Can't you see it this lovely afternoon? It 's quite calm, but there 's a little kissing breath of wind, which makes it dance and sparkle in the sun. It 's laughing with gladness. Trees are beautiful, but they don't laugh.” “They whisper eternal things,” said Herold. “What?”