innocence！ What if it had killed in him trust； brushed off the
dew； tumbled a star down？ Could she forgive herself for that？
Could she bear it if she were to make him like so many other boys；
like that young violinist； just a cynical youth； looking on women
as what they called 'fair game'？ But COULD she make him into such
would he ever grow like that？ Oh！ surely not； or she would not
have loved him from the moment she first set eyes on him and spoke
of him as 'an angel。'
After that kissthat crime； if it were onein the dark she had
not known what he had done； where goneperhaps wandering； perhaps
straight up to his room。 Why had she refrained； left him there；
vanished out of his arms？ This she herself hardly understood。 Not
shame； not fear； reverence perhapsfor what？ For lovefor the
illusion； the mystery； all that made love beautiful； for youth； and
the poetry of it； just for the sake of the black still night
itself； and the scent of that flowerdark flower of passion that
had won him to her； and that she had stolen back； and now wore all
night long close to her neck； and in the morning placed withered
within her dress。 She had been starved so long； and so long waited
for that momentit was little wonder if she did not clearly know
why she had done just this； and not that！
And now how should she meet him； how first look into his eyes？
Would they have changed？ Would they no longer have the straight
look she so loved？ It would be for her to lead； to make the
future。 And she kept saying to herself： I am not going to be
afraid。 It is done。 I will take what life offers！ Of her husband
she did not think at all。
But the first moment she saw the boy； she knew that something from
outside； and untoward； had happened since that kiss。 He came up to
her； indeed； but he said nothing； stood trembling all over and
handed her a telegram that contained these words： 〃Come back at
once Wedding immediate Expect you day after to…morrow。 Cicely。〃
The words grew indistinct even as she read them； and the boy's face
all blurred。 Then； making an effort； she said quietly：
〃Of course； you must go。 You cannot miss your only sister's
wedding。〃
Without protest he looked at her； and she could hardly bear that
lookit seemed to know so little； and ask so much。 She said： 〃It
is nothingonly a few days。 You will come back； or we will come
to you。〃
His face brightened at once。
〃Will you really come to us soon； at onceif they ask you？ Then I
don't mindII〃 And then he stopped； choking。
She said again：
〃Ask us。 We will come。〃
He seized her hand； pressed and pressed it in both his own； then
stroked it gently； and said：
〃Oh！ I'm hurting it！〃
She laughed； not wishing to cry。
In a few minutes he would have to start to catch the only train
that would get him home in time。
She went and helped him to pack。 Her heart felt like lead； but；
not able to bear that look on his face again； she kept cheerfully
talking of their return； asking about his home； how to get to it；
speaking of Oxford and next term。 When his things were ready she
put her arms round his neck； and for a moment pressed him to her。
Then she escaped。 Looking back from his door； she saw him standing
exactly as when she had withdrawn her arms。 Her cheeks were wet；
she dried them as she went downstairs。 When she felt herself safe；
she went out on the terrace。 Her husband was there； and she said
to him：
〃Will you come with me into the town？ I want to buy some things。〃
He raised his eyebrows； smiled dimly； and followed her。 They
walked slowly down the hill into the long street of the little
town。 All the time she talked of she knew not what； and all the
time she thought： His carriage will passhis carriage will pass！
Several carriages went jingling by。 At last he came。 Sitting
there； and staring straight before him； he did not see them。 She
heard her husband say：
〃Hullo！ Where is our young friend Lennan off to； with his luggage
looking like a lion cub in trouble？〃
She answered in a voice that she tried to make clear and steady：
〃There must be something wrong； or else it is his sister's
wedding。〃
She felt that her husband was gazing at her； and wondered what her
face was like； but at that moment the word 〃Madre！〃 sounded close
in her ear and they were surrounded by a small drove of 'English
Grundys。'
XI
That twenty mile drive was perhaps the worst part of the journey
for the boy。 It is always hard to sit still and suffer。
When Anna left him the night before； he had wandered about in the
dark； not knowing quite where he went。 Then the moon came up； and
he found himself sitting under the eave of a barn close to a chalet
where all was dark and quiet； and down below him the moon…whitened
valley villageits roofs and spires and little glamorous unreal
lights。
In his evening suit； his dark ruffled hair uncovered； he would have
made a quaint spectacle for the owners of that chalet； if they had
chanced to see him seated on the hay…strewn boards against their
barn； staring before him with such wistful rapture。 But they were
folk to whom sleep was precious。 。 。 。
And now it was all snatched away from him； relegated to some
immensely far…off future。 Would it indeed be possible to get his
guardian to ask them down to Hayle？ And would they really come？
His tutor would surely never care to visit a place right away in
the countryfar from books and everything！ He frowned； thinking
of his tutor； but it was with perplexityno other feeling。 And
yet； if he could not have them down there； how could he wait the
two whole months till next term began！ So went his thoughts； round
and round； while the horses jogged； dragging him further and
further from her。
It was better in the train； the distraction of all the strange
crowd of foreigners； the interest of new faces and new country； and
then sleepa long night of it； snoozed up in his corner；
thoroughly fagged out。 And next day more new country； more new
faces； and slowly； his mood changing from ache and bewilderment to
a sense of something promised； delightful to look forward to。 Then
Calais at last； and a night…crossing in a wet little steamer； a
summer gale blowing spray in his face； waves leaping white in a
black sea； and the wild sound of the wind。 On again to London； the
early drive across the town； still sleepy in August haze； an
English breakfastporridge； chops； marmalade。 And； at last； the
train for home。 At all events he could write to her； and tearing a
page out of his little sketch…book； he began：
I am writing in the train； so please forgive this joggly writing〃
Then he did not know how to go on； for all that he wanted to say
was such as he had never even dreamed of writingthings about his
feelings which would look horrible in words； besides； he must not
put anything that might not be read； by anyone； so what was there
to say？
〃It has been such a long journey；〃 he wrote at last； 〃away from the
Tyrol；〃 （he did not dare even to put 〃from you；〃） 〃I thought it
would never end。 But at last it hasvery nearly。 I have thought
a great deal about the Tyrol。 It was a lovely timethe loveliest
time I have ever had。 And now it's over； I try to console myself
by thinking of the future； but not the immediate futureTHAT is
not very enjoyable。 I wonder how the mountains are looking to…day。
Please give my love to them； especially the lion ones that come and
lie out in the moonlightyou will not recognize them from this〃
then followed a sketch。 〃And this is the church we went to； with
someone kneeling。 And this is meant for the 'English Grundys；'
looking at someone who is coming in very late with an alpenstock
only； I am better at the 'English Grundys' than at the person with
the alpenstock。 I wish I were the 'English Grundys' now； still in
the Tyrol。 I hope I shall get a letter from you soon； and that it
will say you are getting ready to come back。 My guardian will be
awfully keen for you to come and stay with us。 He is not half bad
when you know him； and there will be his sister； Mrs。 Doone； and
her daughter left there after the wedding。 It will be simply
disgusting if you and Mr。 Stormer don't come。 I wish I could write
all I feel about my lovely time in the Tyrol； but you must please
imagine it。〃
And just as he had not known how to address her； so he could not
tell how to subscribe himself； and only put 〃Mark Lennan。〃
He posted the letter at Exeter； where he had some time to wait； and
his mind moved still more from past to future。 Now that he was
nearing home he began to think of his sister。 In two days she
would be gone to Italy； he would not see her again for a long time；
and a whole crowd of memories began to stretch out hands to him。
How she and he used to walk together in the walled garden； and on
the sunk croquet ground； she telling him stories； her arm round his
neck； because she was two years older； and taller than he in those
days。 Their first talk each holidays； when he came back to her；
the first teawith unlimited jamin the old mullion…windowed；
flower…chintzed schoolroom； just himself and her and old Tingle
（Miss Tring； the ancient governess； whose chaperonage would now be
gone）； and sometimes that kid Sylvia； when she chanced to be
staying there with her mother。 Cicely had always understood him
when he explained to her how inferior school was； because nobody
took any interest in beasts or birds except to kill them； or in
drawing； or making things； or anything decent。 They would go off
together； rambling along the river； or up the park； where
everything looked so jolly and wildthe ragged oak…trees； and huge
boulders； of whose presence old Godden； the coachman； had said： 〃I
can't think but what these ha' been washed here by the Flood； Mast'
Mark！〃 These and a thousand other memories beset his conscience
now。 And as the train drew closer to their station； he eagerly
made ready to jump out and greet her。 There was the honeysuckle
full out along the paling of the platform over the waiting…room；
wonderful； this yearand there was she； standing alone on the
platform。 No； it was not Cicely！ He got out