But Olive was looking from the high lawn up the long white road that wandered away to the sunset and seemed to melt its silver in that copper and gold.
“They asked me once,” she said, “whether I thought King Arthur would return. On an evening like this...can’t you imagine the culmination coming, and our seeing some knight of the Round Table pricking along the road, ever so far away, bringing us a message from the King.”
“Well, it’s jolly queer you should say that,” said the more practical Rosamund, “because there really is somebody coming along; and I believe he’s on a horse, too.”
“He seems to be behind a horse,” said Olive in a low voice. “That low sun dazzles my eyes...Can it be a Roman chariot? I suppose Arthur would really be a Roman?”
“It’s a very queer shape,” said Rosamund; and
