Several were from his friends, banal and everyday. And one was from Tremlett, his own groom, and this was full of Moonlighter and--Pike! That gave him just a moment's feeling--Pike! Tremlett had "made so bold" as to have some snapshots done by a friend, and he ventured to send one to his master. The "very pictur'" of the dog, he said, and it was true. Ah! this touched him, this little photograph of Pike. "Dear little chap," he said to himself as he looked. "My dear little chap." And then an instantaneous desire to show it to his lady came over him, and he went back to the sitting-room in haste. There she was--the post had come for her too, it seemed, and she looked up with an expression of concentrated fierceness from a missive she was reading as he entered the room. Her marvellous self-control banished all but love from her eyes after they had rested on him for an instant, but his senses--so fine now--had remarked the first glance, just as his eye had seen the heavy royal crown on the paper as she hastily folded it and threw it carelessly aside. "Darling!" he said "Oh! look! here is a picture of Pike!" And if it had been the most important document concerning the fate of nations the lady could not have examined it with more enthralled interest and attention than she did this snapshot photograph of a rough terrier dog. "What a sweet fellow!" she said. "Look at his eye! so intelligent; look at that _patte_! See, even he is asking one to love him--and I do--I do--" "Darling!" said Paul in ecstasy, "oh, if we only had him here, wouldn't that be good!" And he never knew why his lady suddenly threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him with passionate tenderness and love, her eyes soft as a dove's. "Oh, my Paul," she said, a break in her wonderful voice, whose tones said many things, "my young, darling, English Paul!" Presently they would drive to see that quaint farm she wanted to show him. The day was very warm, and to rest in the comfortable carriage would be nice. Paul thought so, too. So after a late lunch they started. And once or twice on the drive through the most peaceful and beautiful scenery, a flash of the same fierceness came into the lady's eyes, gazing away over distance as when she had read her letter, and it made Paul wonder and long to ask her why. He never allowed himself to speculate in coherent thought words even as to who she was, or her abode in life. He had given his word, and was an Englishman and would keep it, that was all. But in his subconsciousness there dwelt the conviction that she must be some Queen or Princess of a country south in Europe--half barbaric, half advanced. That she was unhappy and hated it all, he more than divined. It was a proof of the strength of his character that he did not let the terrible thought of inevitable parting mar the bliss of the tangible now. He had promised her to live while the sun of their union shone, and he had the force to keep his word.