lanai andhe remembered the soft sweetness of her mouth, and the curve of her throat, and the glint of her eyes in the moonlight on other nights when he had not been brave enough to come nearer. But now,—he might come very near,—when he had told her. Perhaps it might be arranged for them to be married very soon,—perhaps this week. The whistling stopped, and he hurried up the walk to his lanai and his room, to prepare for dinner and for an evening which was to mark a milestone in his life, and by that milestone a gateway into what looked for a moment like everlasting bliss.
But even with these bright prospects before him, his appetite, achieved by his strenuous walk and run, without food or water, was unimpaired; and, dinner over, he took a few restless turns upon his lanai with a cigarette, and then approached the ironwood screen and knocked upon the rail, which was the usual inquiry as to whether he might part the branches and come over. But from the other side there came no answer. The ironwoods swung and rustled with their soft surf sounds, but no cheery voice called from beyond, "Come in!" He waited for a few moments and then knocked again. But again there was no answer. Perhaps she was still at dinner. He took a few more impatient turns upon the lanai and then returned to the portal, but his summons brought no response. In fact, it was so still beyond the ironwoods that a momentary
