How Barnabas Climbed a Wall

Before him was a shady walk winding between clipped yews, and,
following this, Barnabas presently espied a small arbor some
distance away. Now between him and this arbor was a place where four
paths met, and where stood an ancient sun-dial with quaintly carved
seats. And here, the sun making a glory of her wondrous hair, was my
Lady Cleone, with the Marquis of Jerningham beside her. She sat with
her elbow on her knee and her dimpled chin upon her palm, and, even
from where he stood, Barnabas could see again the witchery of her
lashes that drooped dark upon the oval of her cheek.

The Marquis was talking earnestly, gesturing now and then with his
slender hand that had quite lost its habitual languor, and stooping
that he might look into the drooping beauty of her face, utterly
regardless of the havoc he thus wrought upon the artful folds of his
marvellous cravat. All at once she looked up, laughed and shook her
head, and, closing her fan, pointed with it towards the distant house,
laughing still, but imperious. Hereupon the Marquis rose, albeit
unwillingly, and bowing, hurried off to obey her behest. Then Cleone
rose also, and turning, went on slowly toward the arbor, with head
drooping as one in thought.

And now, with his gaze upon that shapely back, all youthful
loveliness from slender foot to the crowning glory of her hair,
Barnabas sighed, and felt his heart leap as he strode after her. But,
even as he followed, oblivious of all else under heaven, he beheld
another back that obtruded itself suddenly upon the scene, a broad,
graceful back in a coat of fine blue cloth,--a back that bore itself
with a masterful swing of the shoulders. And, in that instant,
Barnabas recognized Sir Mortimer Carnaby.