But he had not come--her Prince with the solemn face and the laughing eyes. Day after day, through the long winter, she had lived for this hour, thrilling over it, picturing it, dreaming of it--both awake and asleep.... And he had not come. Suppose--supposing---- Her heart leaped painfully. She had heard a sound like the humming of an insect--faint--then more clear. The hum became a drone, and in sheer intoxication she reached her hands towards the east as the sun, well above the horizon, illumed the sky with gold-red flames. Blinded by its brilliancy, she turned away; but her ear heard the cessation of the engine as the pilot brought his machine towards the earth. She knew that he must be approaching her; yet she kept her face averted, on some caprice of sixteen years, until she heard his voice calling, a few yards off. He bowed very low as, with lowered eyes, she gave him her hand; then, indicating a coat on his arm, he leant towards her, with some effort making his voice heard above the impatient throbbing of the aeroplane's engine. "Take off your hat," he cried, noticing with quick approval the pretty costume she wore (for however poor she may be, no French girl is without one becoming frock), "and slip your curls into this helmet. It's the largest I could find." She did as she was bidden, laughing delightedly. "Now, youngster, climb into this." He wrapped her in a fur-lined leather coat, and after buttoning it securely, lingered for a moment over the amusing and dainty picture she presented. Then, picking her up in his arms, he carried her over to the machine and deposited her in the observer's seat, fastening the belt. He was just about to climb into his place in front, when, changing his mind, he leaned over to her and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Frightened?" he smiled, speaking so close to her ear that a truant curl brushed against his cheek. She shook her head decisively--for a considerable period she had been beyond the power of speech. He looked into her eyes, which seemed to have borrowed something of the sunlight, and patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.... And Mademoiselle Pippa, niece of the absent miller, would have gone straight to the moon with him had it been his wish and in his power. She watched him wonderingly as he lifted a heavy sand-bag used as ballast, and dropped it on the ground. The next moment he was in the pilot's seat, there was a crescendo of the engine, a waddling sensation as the aeroplane went forward, the sudden development of the crescendo, the burst of speed, and.... The earth was receding! She caught her breath, and hid her face in her hands to stifle a cry and keep the sight from her eyes. She had been afraid that she would faint with dizziness, and for a full minute sat, terror-stricken, until, gaining courage, she tremblingly parted two fingers and cast a timorous glance below. A cry escaped from her--but it was not one of fear.