How strong and lusty was the May light!--the yellow green of the elms--the gold of the buttercupped meadow! Only the dying moon in the high blue suggested a different note; as of another world hidden behind the visible world, waiting patiently, mysteriously, to take its place--to see it fade.
"Oh, Duggy, there's somebody waving to you.

Oh, it's Lord Meyrick.

And who's that girl with him?
She's bowing to you, too.

She's got an awfully lovely frock! Oh, Duggy, do look at her!" Falloden had long since looked at her.

He turned carelessly to his mother.