Almost at once, his eyes were drawn away, to the sunlit garden below, by a charming little interlude which was enacted there. Bareheaded, and dressed in white, suddenly, round the side of the house, came Judith, slender and tall, her beautiful vivid face rosy with the touch of the harvest sun. On her shoulder, skilfully supported in her upstretched arms, sat Bill, with his eyes closed, nodding his cherub's head, heavy with sleep. Beside her trotted Button, animated, vivacious. Judith was smiling happily, as she crooned in a low, sweet voice some lullaby. Button sang, too, more loudly. In Button's clear, young voice, the words of the song became audible in the room-- "And does it not seem hard to you, "When all the sky is clear and blue, "And I should like so much to play, "To have to go bed by day?" A moment later, tightening her hold on Bill, Judith stepped up on to the verandah and, followed by Button, disappeared from view, into the house. The King sprang up, and advanced to the windows. In a little while Judith reappeared, alone, in the garden. Somehow the King had known that she would reappear. The Imps had had to go to bed by day! Sauntering across the lawn, Judith headed for the belt of trees at the far end of the garden. The King knew where she was going. Beyond the trees, in the furthest corner of the garden, stood a small summer house, which commanded a magnificent view of the surrounding landscape. For the sake of this view, the summer house was a favourite retreat of Judith's. Judith disappeared, with a final flicker of her white dress, behind the trees, at the far end of the garden. The King turned abruptly from the windows. He was going to Judith-- And then--he remembered Uncle Bond. Uncle Bond had risen to his feet, and had thrown a white cloth over the luncheon table. He crossed the room now to his writing table, sat down deliberately, and picked up his pencil. "You are going to join Judith, in the garden, my boy?" he remarked. "That is right. Judith will be surprised--and glad--to see you. I am about to revert to 'Cynthia.' I have only one thing more to say to you--now. Thomas Carlyle! Do not forget in Judith's, or in your own excitement, that they will--'cut the rope!' That is certain. You cannot afford to forget that fact, in your dealings with any of us, my boy--least of all can you afford to forget it, in your dealings with Judith." The little man began to write. The King opened his lips to speak; thought better of it, and closed them again; and then--hurried out of the room. CHAPTER XIII