public as you can cram into your garden, my dear."

Then, as soon as the light wraps and dust-coats had been distributed and
donned, the members of the gay little party said good-bye to Lady Adela
in the front hall, and went down the carriage sweep to the gate. Here
there was a division; for the Lestranges were going north by Holland
Lane to Notting Hill; while Lord Rockminster and his two sisters, making
for Palace Gardens Terrace, walked with Lionel Moore only as far as
Campden Hill Road; thereafter he pursued his journey to Piccadilly
alone.

And even now London was not fully awake, though the sun was touching the
topmost branches of the trees, and here and there a high window, struck
by the level rays, flashed back a gleam of gold. In this neighborhood
the thoroughfares were quite deserted; silence reigned over those
sleeping houses; the air was sweet and cool; now and again a stirring of
wind brought a scent of summer--blossom from within the
garden-enclosures. It is true that when he got down into Kensington Road
he found a long procession of wagons slowly making their way into the
great city; but this dull, drowsy noise was not ungrateful; in much
content and idly he walked away eastward, looking in from time to time
at the beautiful greensward of Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. He was
in no hurry. He liked the stillness, the gracious coolness and quietude
of the morning, after the hot and feverish nights at the theatre. When
at length he reached his lodging in Piccadilly, let himself in with his
latch-key, and went up-stairs to his rooms, he did not go to bed at
once. He drew an easy-chair to the front window, threw himself into it,
lit a cigarette, and stared absently across to the branching elms and
grassy undulations of the Green Park. Perhaps he was thinking of the
pretty, fantastic little comedy that had just been performed up in that