"The reflection is certainly a sad blow to my self-esteem!" "Well," he said daringly, "I was thinking how I would like to pick you up in my arms before all these people and run right out in the center of that field--" She flushed to the tips of her ears. "And then--" "Just run, and run, and run away." "What a heroic exploit!" she said with subtle mockery, but the flush deepened. "You know to what lengths I can go in my longing to be a hero!" he muttered. "Running off with girls under your arm seems to have become a mania. But isn't your idea rather prosaic in this age of flying-machines? To swoop down on one in an aëroplane would be so much more thrilling! This is the field where you practise, too, isn't it? Is that building away over there where you keep your Glider?"' "Yes. At first I made the models in a Japanese house of mine near here. I keep it still, from sentiment." "How fine to meet a man who admits to having sentiment! I'm tremendously interested in Japanese houses. You must show it to me." "I will. And when will you let me take you for a 'fly?'" "I'm relieved," she said, "to find you willing to ask permission." Her eyes sparkled into his, and both laughed. Patricia was chatting animatedly with Count Voynich, the young diplomatist whom she had pointed out in the train, and whose monocle now looked absurdly contemplative and serene under a menacing helmet. The confusion of many colors, the pomp and panoply under the day's golden azure, was singing in Barbara's veins. She moved suddenly toward the front. "Come," she said, "I want you to tell me things!" "I'm going to," he answered grimly. "I've known I should, ever since--" "Look!" she cried. Several coaches had bowled up; behind each stood footmen in gold-lace and cocked hats, knee breeches and white silk stockings. Daunt named the occupants as they descended: the Premier, one of the "Elder Statesmen," the Minister of the Household. "Who are the people there at the side, under the awning?" "Tourists. Each Embassy and Legation is allowed a certain number of invitations." "Why, yes," said Barbara. "I see some of my ship-mates." She smiled and nodded across as faces turned toward her. There was the gaunt, sallow woman who had distributed Christian Science tracts (till sea-sickness claimed her for its own) and little Miss Tippetts (the printed steamer-list, with unconscious wit, had made it "Tidbits"), who had flitted about the companion-ways like a shawled wraith, radiant now in a white _lingerie_ gown and a hat covered with red hollyhocks. And there, too, was the familiar painted-muslin and the expansive white waistcoat of the train. A hundred yards to the right was spread a wide silk canopy of royal purple, caught back with crimson tassels. "What is that?" Barbara asked, pointing.