The happy pair, not yet joined in holy matrimony, but to be made one in seven days, were seated in the delightful garden of Sir John's house, which was situated in the pleasant county of Devon. They had strolled out after dinner, leaving Mrs. Bolstreath to chat with the baronet, who approved of the big, placid woman, and enjoyed her society. Lillian and Dan, however, liked to be in one another's company without any third person to spoil their pleasures and on this occasion--being humored as lovers--they were entirely alone. The garden sloped down to a yellow beach, which was the curve of a tiny bay, and under the orb of a brilliant May moon the waters of the vast sea murmured softly almost at their feet. There was a marble bench here, with a marble statue of Cupid near at hand, perched on a pedestal, so the spot was quite that which lovers would have chosen. Dan chose it because the screen of shrubs and trees quite shut off the nook they occupied from the many windows of the great house, and he could kiss Lillian when he wished, without any uneasy feeling that someone was looking on. It is quite unnecessary to say that he frequently availed himself of his privilege. The about-to-be bride fully approved of his ardor in this respect. "But you really must be serious," said Miss Moon, sedately, after the last embrace given out of compliment to her love-in-a-cottage sentiment. "I want to ask you a few questions." "Ask what you will; I can deny you nothing." "It's about the Society of Flies," hesitated the girl. "My dear," said Dan, patiently, and coaxing a loose leaf around his cigar, "I don't want to be disagreeable, but I am really tired of the Society of Flies." "Only a few questions," said Lillian, nestling to his side, "and then we can forget all about the matter." "That won't be easy for me to do," replied Mr. Halliday, rather grimly. "I can never forget what I suffered when I was expecting to be tortured by that fiend." "Queen Beelzebub?" "She could not have chosen a better name, my dear. I sometimes doubt if she was a human being at all." "Poor, misguided woman," murmured Lillian, resting her head on Dan's shoulder. "Don't pity her, dear. She does not deserve your pity. Now, Mrs. Jarsell--I have always been sorry for her." "So have I," said the girl, promptly; "she was very good to you, dear." "Good is a weak way of expressing what I owe her," retorted Halliday; "think of what she saved me from." "Perhaps Queen Beelzebub would not have tortured you, after all." Dan laughed incredulously. "I shouldn't have cared to have trusted to her mercy. I tell you, Lillian, as I have told you before, that already the implements of torture were being made ready. They would have crowned me with a red-hot circlet of steel, and pinched my flesh with red-hot pincers, and----"