As they entered the park of Theobalds, however, they found their tongues, and Gillian became loud in her admiration of the beautiful glades that opened before them, and of the dappled denizens of the wood that tripped lightsomely across the sward, or hurried towards the thickets.

The park, indeed, looked beautiful with its fine oaks in their freshly-opened foliage of the tenderest green, its numerous spreading beeches, its scattered thorns white with blossom, and the young fern just springing from the seed in the brakes.

No wonder Gillian was delighted.

Dick was equally enchanted, and regretted he was not like King James, master of a great park, that he might hunt within it at his pleasure.

Of course, if he had been king, Gillian would naturally have been his queen, and have hunted with him.