The mockery dropped from his voice for a moment as he said the last words. Joy looked at him, a little frightened for the moment. She smiled, then.... She was only nineteen, but she was thoroughly human, and the spirit of Aunt Lucilla lighted her eyes. She dropped her black lashes against her pink cheeks and spoke irresponsibly. "But suppose--suppose I should fall in love with you?" she asked in a most little-girl voice. "Don't you see how dreadfully unhappy _I_ would be?" "Oh, you won't," Clarence assured her in a tone whose casualness did not quite hide his welcome of the prospect. "We'll just be interested in each other enough to make it interesting. Why, Joy of My Life, I wouldn't take anything from good old Hewitt for anything in the world." There was a certain amount of conceit in Clarence's voice and manner, patent even to so inexperienced a person as Joy. He seemed to think that all he had to do was take! Joy looked at him curiously for a moment, and then she sighed. Sometimes she almost wished somebody _would_ take her mind off caring so much for John. "But this isn't real," she suddenly thought, "the sunshine and the gaiety and these kind, handsome Harrington people being good to me, and this Clarence person posing about and trying to toy with my young affections--why, it's like a fairy tale or a play! ... I just rubbed the wishing ring, and it happened!" She forgot Clarence again and began to sing softly under her breath, watching the ruffled water. "What are you thinking, Melisande?" asked Clarence softly. Joy lifted her wide innocent eyes and gave him a discreet version. "That, after all, this is a glade in Fairyland, and I am the princess, and you--the dragon," she ended under her breath. But Clarence, naturally enough, wasn't given to casting himself as a dragon. He was perfectly certain he was a prince, and said so with charming frankness. Joy continued to sing to herself. "I don't see why I shouldn't kiss your hand, if I'm a prince," he observed next. "In fact, as nice a little hand as you have really calls for such." He reached for it--the nearest, with the wishing ring on it. She snatched it indignantly away and clasped her hand indignantly over the ring. That would be profanation! "I wish somebody would come!" she thought. "I'll have to leave not only Clarence, but my nice fountain, in a minute." The next thing she thought was, "What a well-trained wishing ring!" for Viola appeared between the tall rose trees at the entrance to the little pleasance. "Miss Joy, have you seen Philip anywhere?" she asked. "It's his dinner-time, and I've hunted the house upsidedown for him." "Nowhere at all," said Joy truthfully, "Oh, is it as late as all that? I'd better go, Mr. Rutherford." She followed Viola swiftly out, waving her hand provokingly to Clarence. "There's a way out on the other side of the garden," she called back casually.