But the truth of it was that Albert had not happened to come at all. His visit had been deliberately planned for precisely this hour. Could any one suppose for a moment, that he could hear all the beautiful plans fora Knight-of-the-Garter day discussed in his presence, and never make an effort to have a hand in it? To be sure, the children had tried to keep the date a close-guarded secret, but Albert had got wind of it, all the same; and here he was, bright and fresh as the day itself, marching up the path, his little blue sacque folded carefully over one arm, and an inviting luncheon hamper swinging from the other. Fortunately, considering the ungracious mood of the two children in the library, his first encounter chanced to be with Donald, who, arrayed in the white and blue of his summer sailor-suit, was bending over the pansy bed, gathering a few “beauties” into a bunch for Marie-Celeste; and so absorbed in his task was he that he did not hear Albert's tread upon the walk. “Why, where did you come from?” he said, looking up surprised.