he　field　and　swishing　at　the　flies　with　their　tails。　　He　smelled　the　scent　of　limes；　and　lavender。　　Ah！　　that　was　why　there　was　such　a　racket　of　bees。　　They　were　excitedbusy；　as　his　heart　was　busy　and　excited。　　Drowsy；　too；　drowsy　and　drugged　on　honey　and　happiness；　as　his　heart　was　drugged　and　drowsy。　　Summersummerthey　seemed　saying；　great　bees　and　little　bees；　and　the　flies　too！
  The　stable　clock　struck　four；　in　half　an　hour　she　would　be　here。　　He　would　have　just　one　tiny　nap；　because　he　had　had　so　little　sleep　of　late；　and　then　he　would　be　fresh　for　her；　fresh　for　youth　and　beauty；　coming　towards　him　across　the　sunlit　lawnlady　in　grey！　　And　settling　back　in　his　chair　he　closed　his　eyes。　　Some　thistle…down　came　on　what　little　air　there　was；　and　pitched　on　his　moustache　more　white　than　itself。　　He　did　not　know；　but　his　breathing　stirred　it；　caught　there。　　A　ray　of　sunlight　struck　through　and　lodged　on　his　boot。　　A　bumble…bee　alighted　and　strolled　on　the　crown　of　his　Panama　hat。　　And　the　delicious　surge　of　slumber　reached　the　brain　beneath　that　hat；　and　the　head　swayed　forward　and　rested　on　his　breast。　Summersummer！　　So　went　the　hum。
  The　stable　clock　struck　the　quarter　past。　　The　dog　Balthasar　stretched　and　looked　up　at　his　master。　　The　thistledown　no　longer　moved。　　The　dog　placed　his　chin　over　the　sunlit　foot。　　It　did　not　stir。　　The　dog　withdrew　his　chin　quickly；　rose；　and　leaped　on　old　Jolyon's　lap；　looked　in　his　face；　whined；　then；　leaping　down；　sat　on　his　haunches；　gazing　up。　　And　suddenly　he　uttered　a　long；　long　howl。
  But　the　thistledown　was　still　as　death；　and　the　face　of　his　old　master。
  Summersummersummer！　　The　soundless　footsteps　on　the　grass！
  End