He turned his face upward to the parasol of the great pine, closed his eyes, and in a short time forgot his sombre fancies.  January though it was, the mild stillness seemed to vibrate with faint midsummer sounds.  Rowland sat listening to them and wishing that, for the sake of his own felicity, Roderick’s temper were graced with a certain absent ductility.  He was brilliant, but was he, like many brilliant things, brittle?  Suddenly, to his musing sense, the soft atmospheric hum was overscored with distincter sounds.  He heard voices beyond a mass of shrubbery, at the turn of a neighboring path.  In a moment one of them began to seem familiar, and an instant later a large white poodle emerged into view.  He was slowly followed by his mistress.  Miss Light paused a moment on seeing Rowland and his companion; but, though the former perceived that he was recognized, she made no bow.  Presently she walked directly toward him.  He rose and was on the point of waking Roderick, but she laid her finger on her lips and motioned him to forbear.  She stood a moment looking at Roderick’s handsome slumber.

“What delicious oblivion!” she said.  “Happy man!  Stenterello”—­and she pointed to his face—­“wake him up!”

The poodle extended a long pink tongue and began to lick Roderick’s cheek.

“Why,” asked Rowland, “if he is happy?”

“Oh, I want companions in misery!  Besides, I want to show off my dog.”  Roderick roused himself, sat up, and stared.  By this time Mrs. Light had approached, walking with a gentleman on each side of her.  One of these was the Cavaliere Giacosa; the other was Prince Casamassima.  “I should have liked to lie down on the grass and go to sleep,” Christina added.  “But it would have been unheard of.”

“Oh, not quite,” said the Prince, in English, with a tone of great precision.  “There was already a Sleeping Beauty in the Wood!”

“Charming!” cried Mrs. Light.  “Do you hear that, my dear?”

“When the prince says a brilliant thing, it would be a pity to lose it,” said the young girl.  “Your servant, sir!” And she smiled at him with a grace that might have reassured him, if he had thought her compliment ambiguous.

Roderick meanwhile had risen to his feet, and Mrs. Light began to exclaim on the oddity of their meeting and to explain that the day was so lovely that she had been charmed with the idea of spending it in the country.  And who would ever have thought of finding Mr. Mallet and Mr. Hudson sleeping under a tree!

“Oh, I beg your pardon; I was not sleeping,” said Rowland.

“Don’t you know that Mr. Mallet is Mr. Hudson’s sheep-dog?” asked Christina.  “He was mounting guard to keep away the wolves.”

“To indifferent purpose, madame!” said Rowland, indicating the young girl.

“Is that the way you spend your time?” Christina demanded of Roderick.  “I never yet happened to learn what men were doing when they supposed women were not watching them but it was something vastly below their reputation.”