"If Wilhelmina--were not Wilhelmina, it certainly would," Lady Peggy answered. "I call her craving for new things and new people positively morbid. All the time she beats her wings against the bars. There are no new things. There are no new experiences. The sooner one makes up one's mind to it the better." Gilbert Deyes laughed softly. "If my memory serves me," he said, "you are repeating a cry many thousand years old. Wasn't there a prophet----" "There was," she interrupted, "but they are beckoning us. I hope I don't cut with the young man. I don't believe he has a bridge face." CHAPTER V EVICTED Victor Macheson smoked his after-breakfast pipe with the lazy enjoyment of one who is thoroughly at peace with himself and his surroundings. The tiny strip of lawn on to which he had dragged his chair was surrounded with straggling bushes of cottage flowers, and flanked by a hedge thick with honeysuckle. Straight to heaven, as the flight of a bird, the thin line of blue smoke curled upwards to the summer sky; the very air seemed full of sweet scents and soothing sounds. A few yards away, a procession of lazy cows moved leisurely along the grass-bordered lane; from the other side of the hedge came the cheerful sound of a reaping-machine, driven slowly through the field of golden corn. The man, through half closed eyes, looked out upon these things, and every line in his face spelt contentment. In repose, the artistic temperament with which he was deeply imbued, asserted itself more clearly--the almost fanatical light in his eyes was softened; one saw there was something of the wistfulness of those who seek to raise but a corner of the veil that hangs before the world of hidden things--something, too, of the subdued joy which even the effort brings. The lines of his forceful mouth were less firm, more sensitive--a greater sense of humanity seemed somehow to have descended upon him as he lounged there in the warmth of the sun, with the full joy of his beautiful environment creeping through his blood. "If you please, Mr. Macheson," some one said in his ear. He turned his head at once. A tall, fair girl had stepped out of the room where he had been breakfasting, and was standing by his elbow. She was neatly dressed, pretty in a somewhat insipid fashion, and her hands and hair showed signs of a refinement superior to her station. Just now she was apparently nervous. Macheson smiled at her encouragingly. "Well, Letty," he said, "what is it?" "I wanted--can I say something to you, Mr. Macheson?" she began. "Why not?" he answered kindly. "Is it anything very serious? Out with it!" "I was thinking, Mr. Macheson," she said, "that I should like to leave home--if I could--if there was anything which I could do. I wanted to ask your advice." He laid down his pipe and looked at her seriously. "Why, Letty," he said, "how long have you been thinking of this?"