ized it in the past. But the introduction of Rose made of it something quite new, a pleasure hitherto unfelt.
"By the end of my stay I shall be madly in love with her and very unhappy," he said to himself at last.
A little while later they met M. Des Boys, who was looking for them. While they were waiting at the station for the train, M. Hervart examined his duplicate postcards of the castles.
"Why shouldn't we go and look at them?" said Rose, glancing at her father.
He acquiesced:
"It will give me some ideas for the restoration of Robinvast, which I think of carrying out."
All that he meant to do was simply to set the place in order. He would have the mortar re-pointed without touching the ivy, and while preserving the wildness of the park and wood, he would have paths and alleys made.
"Art," he said sententiously, "admits only of a certain kind of disorder. Besides, I have to think of public opinion; the disorder of my garden will make people think what I am let-
