It was a warm beautiful morning the last week in March when he alighted on the platform of the little railroad station on the estate, and took his seat beside Nan in her big touring car. The fruit trees were in full bloom, and their perfume filled the air. The hum of bees and the song of birds he had known in his boyhood thrilled his heart. He drew a deep breath of joy, and without a struggle resigned himself to the charm of it all. "It's glorious, Nan!" he exclaimed. "Your coming makes it perfect, Jim," she answered, tenderly, and turning to the chauffeur said: "Drive for an hour before going to the house, Collins." The chauffeur tipped his cap and the throbbing machine shot around a curve and swept along the river's edge down the green carpeted valley which stretches out for miles below the ramparts of the great chateau on the mountain-side above. "There's the house, Jim!" Nan cried, pointing to the heights on the left. Stuart could not suppress an exclamation of delight. "Magnificent!" he said, with enthusiasm. As the river made a graceful curve the great building swept into full view--a stunning pile of marble three hundred feet long, its tower piercing the turquoise sky in solemn grandeur. The stone parapet, on which its front wall was built, rose in massive strength a hundred feet from the ledge in the granite cliff before touching the first line of the white stones of the house itself. At the end a formal garden had been built on the foundations of masonry which cost a hundred thousand dollars. "What a background that row of live oaks make behind the garden!" he exclaimed. "Don't they?" she answered. "You would hardly believe it, but we planted every one of those trees." "Nonsense! They must be two feet in diameter." "More; not one of them is less than three. We moved a hundred of them from the woods, without breaking the dirt from their roots--built special machinery to do it. I think Cal is prouder of those trees than he is of the house." For an hour the car swept like a spirit over the miles of smooth macadam private roads Bivens had built. At each graceful turn his wonder increased at the luxurious outlay of millions which the little man had spent to gratify a whim. From each hilltop, as the huge gleaming castle came into view from a new angle, revealing its marvellous beauty, he thought with a touch of pity of the shambling figure of the stricken man limping through its halls helpless, lonely, miserable. What strange pranks Fate plays with the mighty as well as the lowly! So frail was the broken body now he did not dare risk a cold by taking a ride with his wife. The machine turned suddenly up a hill and glided through two iron gates opening on the lawn and the great white chateau loomed before them in a flash of blinding beauty. Stuart caught his breath. Turning to Nan he shook his head slowly: "Don't you like it?" she laughed. "I was just wondering." "At what?"