"I cannot spare you, darling.

I shall have a beautiful garden of my own next summer, and you must come and stay with me, Mirko mio, and chase real butterflies with a golden net." And this thought enchanted the child.

He must hear all about his sister's garden.

By chance there was an old number of _Country Life_ lying on the table, and, the nurse bringing in the tea at the moment, they turned on the electric light and looked at the pictures; and by the strangest coincidence, when they came to the weekly series of those beautiful houses she read at the beginning of the article, "Wrayth--the property of Lord Tancred of Wrayth." "See, Mirko," she said in a half voice; "our garden will look exactly like this." And the child examined every picture with intense interest.

One of a statue of Pan and his pipe, making the center of a star in the Italian parterre, pleased him most.
"For see, Cherisette, he, too, is not shaped as other people are," he whispered with delight.