Whether it was the fresh, sweet smell of the earth that caused him to saunter forth from the Tavern, and to adventure across the road to the foot of the great old oak, or the ripening of spring in his blood, is of no immediate consequence here. He had no reason for going over there to lean against the tree and light his after-breakfast pipe,-- unless, of course, it be argued that the position afforded a fair and excellent view of the window in Miss Cameron's room. The shutters were open and the low sash was raised.

Presently she appeared at the window, and smiled down upon him. The spell was at its height; the charm that had clothed the morning with enchantment was now complete.

He waved his hand. "The top o' the morning," he cried.

"I detect coffee," she returned, "and, oh, how good it smells. Have you had yours?"

"Ages ago," he replied, ecstatically.

She placed her elbows on the sill and her chin in the palms of her hands. The loose sleeves of Miss Thackeray's bizarre dressing gown fell away, revealing two round, smooth, white arms. The sun shot its mellow light into the ripples of her tousled hair, and it shone like burnished gold. Her white teeth gleamed against the red of her smiling lips. He was fascinated.

The automobile driven by Peter Ames too soon came roaring and rattling up the pike. She withdrew her head, after twice being warned by Barnes not to reveal herself to the view of skulkers who might infest the wood beyond,--and each time his reward was a delightfully stubborn shake of the head and the ruthless assertion that on such a heavenly morning as this she didn't mind in the least if all the spies in the world were gazing at her.

Two minutes after Peter drove up to the Tavern he was on the way back to Green Fancy again, and seated beside him was Thomas Kingsbury Barnes, his new master.

"Needn't be afraid of trespassin'," said Peter when Barnes advised him to go slow as they turned off the road into the forest. "Nobody's going to object. You c'n yell, and shoot, and raise all the thunder you want, an' there won't be nobody runnin' out to tell you to shut up. Might as well try to disturb a graveyard."

There was not a sign of human life about the place. Peter, without compunction, admitted his employer through the back door of the house, and accompanied him upstairs to the room recently occupied by Miss Cameron.

"Course," he said, but not uneasily, "I'm not supposed to let anybody remove anything from the house as long as I'm employed as caretaker."




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