shadow of the vines, and sipped their wine, while Audrey obediently
gathered clusters of the purple fruit, and thought the garden very fine,
but oh, not like--There could be no garden in the world so beautiful and
so dear as that! And she had not seen it for so long, so long a time. She
wondered if she would ever see it again.

When she brought the fruit to the table, Mistress Stagg made room for her
kindly enough; and she sat and drank her wine and went to her world of
dreams, while her companions bartered town and country gossip. It has been
said that the small white house adjoined a larger building. A window in
this structure, which had much the appearance of a barn, was now opened,
with the result that a confused sound, as of several people speaking at
once, made itself heard. Suddenly the noise gave place to a single
high-pitched voice:--

"'Welcome, my son! Here lay him down, my friends,
Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure
The bloody corse, and count those glorious wounds.'"

A smile irradiated Mistress Stagg's faded countenance, and she blew a kiss
toward the open window. "He does Cato so extremely well; and it's a grave,
dull, odd character, too. But Mirabell--that's Charles, you know--manages
to put a little life in it, a _Je ne sais quoi_, a touch of Sir Harry
Wildair. Now--now he's pulling out his laced handkerchief to weep over
Rome! You should see him after he has fallen on his sword, and is brought
on in a chair, all over blood. This is the third rehearsal; the play's
ordered for Monday night. Who is it, Peggy? Madam Travis! It's about the
lace for her damask petticoat, and there's no telling how long she may
keep me! My dear Deborah, when you have finished your wine, Peggy shall
show you your room. You must make yourself quite at home. For says I to