"Good only can bring good, and evil, evil." At this moment, out from the copse the soft head of a doe appeared, and at the thrilling sight Halcyone slipped her hand into her companion's, and held his tight lest he should move or rustle a leaf.
"See," she whispered right in his ear.

"She will cross to the other side by the stream--and oh! there is the fawn! Is he not the dearest baby angel you have ever seen--!" And the doe, feeling herself safe, trotted by, followed by a minute son in pale drab velvet hardly a month old.
The pair in the tree watched them breathlessly until they had entered the copse again beyond the bend, and then Halcyone said: "That makes six--and perhaps there are more.

Oh! how I hope the Long Man will not see them!" John Derringham did not let go her hand at once; there was something soft and pleasant in the touch of the cool little fingers.
"I want to hear about everything," he said.

"Tell me of the Long Man--and the fawns, and why there are only six.

I am having the happiest morning I have had for years." So Halcyone began.