Published by Edward Schuberth & Co., 11 East 22nd Street,
New York.]
Ann's thoughts turned towards Eliot Coventry, the man who had told her he
was "old enough to have lost all his illusions." Need one ever be as old as
that, she wondered rather wistfully? Surely for each one of us there should
be a garden where our dream-flowers grow--dream-flowers which one day we
shall pluck and find they have become beautiful realities.
She was reading the verses through for the second time when a shadow seemed
to move betwixt her and the sun, darkening the page. She glanced up quickly
to find Coventry himself standing beside her.
"I hope I haven't startled you," he said. "Maria told me you were in the
garden and left me to find my own way here. I think"--smiling--"some cakes
were in imminent danger of burning if she took her eye off them, so to
speak."
Ann shook hands and hospitably indicated a garden chair.
"Won't you sit down?" she said, though a trifle nervously. "Or are you in a
hurry?" It had startled her to find the man of whom she had at that moment
been thinking close beside her.
"I'm in no hurry," he said, sitting down. "I came to inquire how you were
getting on.
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