There was nobody in sight at first, but as Agatha followed the path, she presently saw a white arm and skirt projecting from behind the trunk of a tree.  Danny, wagging slowly, appeared to wish to make friends, and before Agatha had time to wonder, the stranger emerged and came toward her with outstretched hand.

“Ah, forgive me!  I hid and then startled you; but I was tempted by the song.  And this forest temple—­isn’t it wonderful?”

Agatha looked at the stranger, suddenly wondering if she were not some familiar but half-forgotten acquaintance of years agone.  She was a beautiful dark woman, probably two or three years older than herself, mature and self-poised as only a woman of the cosmopolitan world can be.  It might be that compared to her Agatha was a bit crude and unfinished, with the years of her full blossoming yet to come.  She had no words at the moment, and the older woman, still holding Agatha’s hand, explained.

“I did not mean to steal in upon you; but as I came into the grove I heard you singing Haendel, and I couldn’t resist listening.  Your voice, it is wonderful!  Especially here!” As she looked into Agatha’s face, her sincere eyes and voice gave the praise that no one can resist, the tribute of one artist to another.

“This is, indeed, a beautiful hall.  I found it out just now by accident, when I came up here to practice and see if I had any voice left,” said Agatha.  She paused, as it suddenly occurred to her that the visitor might be James Hambleton’s sister and that she was being delinquent as a hostess.  “But come back to the house,” she said.  “This is not a hospitable place, exactly, to receive a guest.”

The stranger laughed gently.  “Have you guessed who I am, then?  No?  Well, you see I had the advantage of you from the first.  You are Miss Redmond, and I followed you here from the house, where your servant gave me the directions.  I am Miss Reynier, Melanie Reynier, and I am staying at the Hillside.  Mr. Van Camp—­” and to her own great surprise, Melanie blushed crimson at this point—­“that is, we, my aunt and I, were Mr. Van Camp’s guests on board the Sea Gull.  When he heard of the wreck of the Jeanne D’Arc we put in to Charlesport; though he has probably explained all this to you.  It was such a relief and pleasure to Mr. Van Camp to find his cousin, ill as he was; for he had feared the worst.”

Agatha had not heard Miss Reynier’s name before, but she knew vaguely that Mr. Van Camp had been with a yachting party when he arrived at Charlesport.  Now that she was face to face with Miss Reynier, a keen liking and interest, a quick confidence, rose in her heart for her.

“Then perhaps you know Mr. Hambleton,” said Agatha impulsively.  “The fever turned last night.  Were you told that he is better?”

“No, I don’t know him,” said Melanie, shaking her head.  “Nevertheless, I am heartily glad to hear that he is better. Much better, they said at the house.”