A
DEVOTEE
MARY
CHOLMONDELEY
AUTHOR
OF
'
DIANA
TEMPEST
,
'
'
SIR
CHARLES
DANVERS
,
'
AND
'
THE
DANVERS
JEWELS
'
SECOND
EDITION
EDWARD
ARNOLD
1897
All
rights
reserved
FLORIE
,
UPON
WHOSE
KIND
STRONG
HAND
I
HAVE
SO
OFTEN
LEANT
.
'
That
day
is
sure
,
Though
not
perhaps
this
week
,
nor
month
,
nor
year
,
When
your
great
love
shall
clean
forgotten
be
,
And
my
poor
tenderness
shall
yet
endure
.
'
Wilfrid
S.
Blunt
.
CHAPTER
I
.
'
Yet
to
be
loved
makes
not
to
love
again
;
Not
at
my
years
,
however
it
hold
in
youth
.
'
Tennyson
.
The
cathedral
was
crammed
.
The
tall
slender
arches
seemed
to
spring
out
of
a
vast
sea
of
human
heads
.
The
orchestra
and
chorus
had
gradually
merged
into
one
person
:
one
shout
of
praise
,
one
voice
of
prayer
,
one
wail
of
terror
.
The
Elijah
was
in
mid-career
,
sailing
like
a
man-of-war
upon
the
rushing
waves
of
music
.
And
presently
there
was
a
hush
,
and
out
of
the
hush
a
winged
voice
arose
,
as
a
lark
rises
out
of
a
meadow
,
singing
as
it
rises
:
'
O
rest
in
the
Lord
,
wait
patiently
for
Him
,
and
He
shall
give
thee
thy
heart
's
desire
.
'
The
lark
dropped
into
its
nest
again
.
The
music
swept
thundering
upon
its
way
,
and
a
large
tear
fell
unnoticed
from
a
young
girl
's
eyes
on
to
the
bare
slim
hand
which
held
her
score
.
The
score
quivered
;
the
slender
willowy
figure
quivered
in
its
setting
of
palest
violet
and
white
draperies
threaded
with
silver
.
Only
a
Frenchwoman
could
have
dared
to
translate
a
child
's
posy
of
pale
blue
and
white
violets
,
tied
with
a
silver
string
,
into
a
gown
;
but
Sibyl
Carruthers
'
dressmaker
was
an
artist
in
her
way
,
and
took
an
artist
's
license
,
and
the
half-mourning
which
she
had
designed
for
the
great
heiress
was
in
colouring
what
a
bereaved
butterfly
might
have
worn
.
Miss
Carruthers
was
called
beautiful
.
Perhaps
she
was
beautiful
for
an
heiress
,
but
she
was
certainly
not
,
in
reality
,
any
prettier
than
many
hundreds
of
dowerless
girls
who
had
never
been
considered
more
than
good-looking
.
Her
delicate
features
were
too
irregular
,
in
spite
of
their
obvious
high
breeding
;
her
figure
was
too
slight
;
her
complexion
was
too
faintly
tinted
for
regular
beauty
.
But
she
had
something
of
the
evanescent
charm
of
a
four-petalled
dog-rose
newly
blown
—
exquisite
,
ethereal
,
but
as
if
it
might
fall
in
a
moment
.
This
aspect
of
fragility
was
heightened
by
what
women
noticed
about
her
first
,
namely
,
her
gossamer
gown
with
its
silver
gleam
,
and
by
what
men
noticed
about
her
first
—
her
gray
eyes
,
pathetic
,
eager
,
shy
by
turns
,
always
lovely
,
but
hinting
of
a
sword
too
sharp
for
its
slender
sheath
,
of
an
ardent
spirit
whose
grasp
on
this
world
was
too
slight
.
And
as
the
music
passed
over
her
young
untried
soul
,
she
sat
motionless
,
her
hands
clasping
the
score
.
She
heard
nothing
of
it
,
but
it
accompanied
the
sudden
tempest
of
passion
which
was
shaking
her
,
as
wind
accompanies
storm
.
The
voice
of
the
song
had
stirred
an
avalanche
of
emotion
.
'
And
I
will
give
thee
thy
heart
's
desire
.
'
She
knew
nothing
about
waiting
patiently
,
but
her
heart
's
desire
—
she
must
have
it
.
She
could
not
live
without
it
.
Her
whole
soul
went
out
in
an
agony
of
prayer
to
the
God
who
gives
and
who
withholds
to
accord
her
this
one
petition
—
to
be
his
wife
.
She
repeated
it
over
and
over
again
.
To
be
near
him
,
to
see
him
day
by
day
—
nothing
else
,
nothing
else
!
This
one
thing
,
without
which
,
poor
child
!
she
thought
she
could
not
live
.
It
seemed
to
Sibyl
that
she
was
falling
at
God
's
feet
in
the
whirlwind
,
and
refusing
to
let
Him
go
until
He
granted
her
prayer
.
But
would
He
grant
it
?
Her
heart
sank
.
Despair
rushed
in
upon
her
like
a
flood
at
the
bare
thought
of
its
refusal
,
and
she
caught
yet
again
at
the
only
hope
left
to
her
—
a
desperate
appeal
to
the
God
who
gives
and
who
withholds
.
Presently
it
was
all
over
,
and
they
were
going
out
.
'
We
were
to
wait
for
the
others
here
,
'
said
Peggy
,
the
girl
who
had
been
sitting
with
Sibyl
,
as
they
emerged
into
the
sun
shine
with
the
crowd
.
'
Mother
and
Mr.
Doll
were
just
behind
us
.
'
Lady
Pierpoint
,
Sibyl
's
aunt
,
presently
joined
them
with
Mr.
Doll
Loftus
,
an
irreproachable-looking
,
unapproachable-looking
fair
young
man
,
who
,
it
was
whispered
,
was
almost
too
smart
to
live
,
but
who
nevertheless
bore
himself
with
severe
simplicity
.
He
went
up
to
Sibyl
with
some
diffidence
.
'
You
are
tired
,
'
he
said
anxiously
.
Doll
's
remarks
were
considered
banal
in
the
extreme
by
some
women
,
but
others
who
admired
fair
hair
and
pathetic
eyes
found
a
thoughtful
beauty
in
them
.
It
would
be
difficult
from
her
manner
to
infer
which
class
of
sentiments
this
particular
remark
awoke
in
Sibyl
.
'
Music
always
tires
me
,
'
she
replied
,
without
looking
at
him
,
dropping
her
white
eyelids
.
'
Are
we
all
here
?
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
.
'
Peggy
,
and
Sibyl
—
my
dear
,
how
tired
you
look
!
—
and
myself
,
and
you
,
Mr.
Doll
;
that
is
only
four
,
and
"
we
are
seven
.
"
Ah
!
here
come
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Cathcart
.
Now
we
only
want
Mr.
Loftus
.
'
'
The
Dean
caught
him
in
the
doorway
,
'
said
Doll
.
'
He
is
coming
now
.
'
The
tall
thin
figure
of
an
elder
man
was
slowly
crossing
the
angular
patch
of
sunshine
where
the
cathedral
had
not
cast
its
great
shadow
.
The
nobility
of
his
bearing
seemed
to
appeal
to
the
crowd
.
They
made
way
for
him
instinctively
,
as
if
he
were
some
distinguished
personage
.
He
was
accompanied
by
a
robust
clerical
figure
with
broad
calves
.
'
Mr
.
Loftus
makes
everyone
else
look
common
,
'
said
Peggy
plaintively
.
'
It
is
the
only
unkind
thing
I
know
about
him
.
I
thought
the
Dean
quite
dignified-looking
while
we
were
at
luncheon
at
the
Deanery
,
but
now
he
looks
like
a
pork-butcher
.
I
'm
not
going
to
walk
within
ten
yards
of
Mr.
Loftus
,
mummy
,
or
I
shall
be
taken
for
a
parlourmaid
having
her
day
out
.
I
think
,
Sibyl
,
you
are
the
only
one
who
can
afford
to
go
with
him
.
'
But
Doll
thought
differently
,
and
it
was
he
and
Sibyl
who
walked
the
short
distance
to
the
station
together
through
the
flag-decked
streets
in
the
brilliant
September
sunshine
.
People
turned
to
glance
at
them
as
they
passed
.
They
made
a
striking-looking
couple
.
Mr.
Loftus
,
following
slowly
at
a
little
distance
with
Lady
Pierpoint
,
looked
affectionately
at
the
back
of
his
young
cousin
,
who
was
also
his
heir
,
and
said
to
her
,
with
a
smile
:
'
I
wish
it
could
be
.
Doll
is
a
good
fellow
.
'
'
I
wish
indeed
it
could
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
earnestly
,
with
the
slight
slackening
of
reserve
which
is
often
observable
in
the
atmosphere
on
the
last
afternoon
of
a
visit
with
a
purpose
.
Lady
Pierpoint
had
not
come
to
spend
a
whole
week
with
a
Sunday
in
it
with
Mr.
Loftus
at
Wilderleigh
for
nothing
.
And
she
was
aware
that
neither
had
she
and
her
niece
and
daughter
been
invited
for
that
long
period
without
a
cause
.
But
the
week
ended
with
the
following
morning
,
and
she
sighed
.
She
had
daughters
of
her
own
coming
on
,
as
well
as
her
dear
snub-nosed
Peggy
,
who
was
already
out
,
and
it
was
natural
to
wish
that
the
re
sponsibility
of
this
delicate
,
emotional
creature
,
with
her
great
wealth
,
might
be
taken
from
her
and
placed
in
safe
hands
.
She
thought
Doll
was
safe
.
Perhaps
the
wish
was
father
,
or
rather
aunt
,
to
the
thought
.
But
it
was
no
doubt
the
truest
epithet
that
could
be
applied
to
the
young
man
.
It
was
a
matter
of
opinion
whether
he
was
exhaustingly
dull
in
conversation
or
extraordinarily
interesting
,
but
he
certainly
was
safe
.
He
belonged
to
that
class
of
our
latter-day
youth
of
whom
it
may
be
predicted
,
with
some
confidence
,
that
they
will
never
cause
their
belongings
a
moment
's
uneasiness
;
who
may
be
trusted
never
to
do
anything
very
right
or
very
wrong
;
who
will
get
on
tolerably
well
in
any
position
,
and
with
any
woman
,
provided
there
are
means
to
support
it
and
—
her
;
who
have
enough
worldliness
to
marry
money
,
and
enough
good
feeling
to
make
irreproachable
husbands
afterwards
;
in
short
,
the
kind
of
young
men
who
are
invented
by
Providence
on
purpose
to
marry
heiresses
,
and
who
,
if
they
fall
below
their
vocation
,
dwindle
,
when
their
youth
is
over
,
into
the
padded
impecunious
bores
of
society
.
There
was
a
short
journey
by
rail
through
the
hop
country
.
Sibyl
watched
the
rows
of
hops
in
silence
.
Cowardice
has
its
sticking-point
as
well
as
courage
,
and
she
was
undergoing
the
miserable
preliminary
tremors
by
which
that
point
is
reached
.
Mr.
Loftus
,
sitting
opposite
her
,
and
observing
her
fixity
of
gaze
,
glanced
at
her
rather
wistfully
from
time
to
time
.
He
saw
something
was
working
in
her
mind
.
He
looked
tired
,
and
in
the
strong
afternoon
light
his
grave
,
lined
face
seemed
more
worn
and
world-weary
than
ever
.
He
had
the
look
of
a
man
who
had
long
outlived
all
personal
feeling
,
and
who
to-day
had
been
remembering
his
youth
.
The
Wilderleigh
omnibus
and
Doll
's
spider-wheeled
dogcart
were
waiting
at
the
little
roadside
station
,
which
was
so
small
that
the
train
very
nearly
overlooked
it
,
and
had
to
be
backed
.
Doll
was
already
holding
the
wheel
to
protect
Sibyl
's
gown
as
she
got
up
,
and
looking
towards
her
,
and
Lady
Pierpoint
was
hurrying
Peggy
,
who
had
expressed
a
hankering
after
the
dogcart
,
into
the
omnibus
,
when
Mr.
Loftus
observed
that
he
thought
he
would
walk
up
.
Sibyl
's
face
changed
.
'
May
I
walk
up
with
you
?
'
she
asked
instantly
.
Mr.
Loftus
looked
disappointed
;
everybody
looked
disappointed
.
Lady
Pierpoint
put
her
head
out
,
and
said
:
'
My
dear
child
,
the
drive
in
the
open
air
will
refresh
you
;
you
are
looking
tired
.
'
'
May
I
go
in
the
dogcart
if
Sibyl
does
n't
want
to
?
'
put
in
Peggy
in
an
audible
aside
to
her
mother
.
'
I
think
you
are
tired
,
'
said
Mr.
Loftus
,
looking
at
Sibyl
and
shaking
his
head
.
'
And
,
'
he
added
in
a
lower
voice
,
'
Doll
will
be
much
disappointed
.
'
A
faint
colour
covered
her
face
,
which
quivered
as
she
turned
it
towards
him
.
'
Let
me
walk
up
with
you
,
'
she
said
again
,
with
a
tremor
in
her
voice
.
He
met
her
appealing
eyes
with
gentle
scrutiny
.
'
It
is
not
far
,
'
he
said
aloud
;
'
not
more
than
half
a
mile
through
the
park
.
I
will
take
care
of
her
,
Lady
Pierpoint
.
We
shall
be
at
Wilderleigh
almost
as
soon
as
you
are
.
'
'
Oh
,
mummy
,
may
I
go
in
the
dogcart
now
?
'
implored
Peggy
from
the
depths
of
the
omnibus
.
And
Mr.
Loftus
and
Sibyl
set
out
together
.
They
were
in
the
park
in
a
few
minutes
,
and
were
walking
down
towards
Wilderleigh
,
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
river
,
an
old
house
of
weather-beaten
gray
stone
,
of
twisted
chimneys
and
uneven
roofs
and
pointed
gables
,
with
quaint
carved
finials
,
standing
above
its
terraces
and
its
long
stone
balustrade
.
The
sun
was
setting
in
a
sky
of
daffodil
behind
the
tall
top-heavy
elms
of
the
rookery
and
the
tower
of
the
village
church
.
Little
fleets
of
clouds
lay
motionless
in
high
heaven
,
looking
towards
the
west
.
The
land
in
its
long
shadows
dreamed
of
peace
.
The
old
house
beyond
the
river
was
in
shadow
already
.
So
was
the
river
.
'
Sometimes
,
'
said
Mr.
Loftus
to
himself
,
'
a
young
girl
feels
more
able
to
confide
in
an
old
friend
than
a
relation
.
She
has
often
talked
to
me
before
.
Perhaps
she
is
going
to
do
so
again
.
'
And
he
felt
comforted
about
Doll
and
the
dogcart
.
Presently
as
he
glanced
at
her
,
wondering
at
her
continued
silence
,
he
saw
that
she
was
greatly
agitated
.
'
Something
troubles
you
,
'
he
said
gently
.
She
looked
at
him
half
in
terror
,
as
if
deprecating
his
anger
.
They
were
walking
down
a
narrow
ride
in
the
tall
bracken
.
A
trunk
of
a
tree
lay
near
the
path
among
the
yellowing
fern
.
He
led
her
to
it
and
sat
down
by
her
,
looking
at
her
with
painful
anxiety
and
with
a
sense
of
growing
fatigue
.
Emotion
of
any
kind
exhausted
him
.
If
it
had
not
been
for
Doll
,
he
would
have
dropped
the
subject
,
but
for
his
sake
he
made
an
effort
.
'
Tell
me
,
'
he
said
,
and
he
took
her
thin
young
hand
and
held
it
in
his
thin
older
hand
.
It
was
the
last
afternoon
;
both
were
conscious
of
it
.
She
trembled
very
much
,
but
she
did
not
speak
.
His
heart
sank
.
'
You
wish
to
tell
me
something
about
Doll
,
perhaps
,
'
he
said
at
last
.
'
Do
not
be
afraid
of
paining
me
by
talking
of
it
.
You
like
him
,
perhaps
,
but
not
enough
,
and
you
are
grieved
because
you
see
how
much
he
loves
you
.
Is
that
it
?
'
'
I
do
n't
like
him
,
'
gasped
Sibyl
.
'
I
have
never
thought
about
it
.
That
is
only
Aunt
Marion
.
'
Mr.
Loftus
sighed
,
and
his
gray
cheek
blanched
a
little
.
He
had
built
much
on
the
hope
of
this
marriage
.
He
had
a
tender
regard
for
Sibyl
,
whose
emotional
and
impulsive
nature
appealed
to
him
,
and
filled
him
with
apprehension
as
for
a
butterfly
in
a
manufactory
,
which
may
injure
itself
any
moment
.
And
he
knew
Doll
was
genuinely
in
love
with
her
.
It
would
be
grievous
if
she
were
married
for
her
money
.
And
Wilderleigh
was
dying
stone
by
stone
and
acre
by
acre
for
want
of
that
money
.
As
he
looked
mournfully
at
Sibyl
,
an
expression
came
into
her
wide
eyes
like
that
which
he
had
seen
in
the
eyes
of
some
timid
wild
animal
brought
to
bay
.
He
recognised
that
,
like
a
shy
bird
near
its
nest
,
she
was
defending
in
impotent
despair
of
broken
white
wings
something
which
was
part
of
her
life
,
which
was
going
from
her
,
which
he
was
taking
away
.
'
It
is
you
I
love
,
'
she
said
,
and
her
small
hand
ceased
trembling
and
became
cold
in
his
.
For
a
moment
both
were
stunned
alike
,
and
then
some
of
the
grayness
of
age
and
suffering
crept
suddenly
from
his
face
to
hers
as
she
felt
his
hand
involuntarily
slacken
its
clasp
of
hers
.
'
My
child
,
'
he
said
at
last
,
with
great
difficulty
and
with
greater
tenderness
,
'
it
is
very
many
years
since
I
gave
up
all
thought
of
marriage
.
I
am
old
enough
to
be
your
—
—
'
He
might
have
said
'
grandfather
'
with
truth
.
He
meant
to
say
it
,
but
as
he
approached
the
word
he
could
not
wound
her
with
it
.
'
I
know
,
'
she
interrupted
hurriedly
.
'
I
do
n't
mind
.
That
is
nothing
to
me
.
'
'
And
my
life
,
'
he
said
,
'
what
little
there
is
left
of
it
,
hangs
by
a
thread
.
'
'
I
know
,
'
she
said
again
—
'
I
have
thought
of
that
.
I
have
thought
of
nothing
but
you
since
I
first
met
you
a
year
ago
.
But
if
I
might
only
love
and
serve
you
and
be
with
you
!
And
I
am
so
rich
,
too
.
If
I
might
only
take
away
those
money
troubles
which
you
once
spoke
of
long
ago
!
If
I
might
only
give
you
everything
I
have
!
The
money
is
the
smallest
part
of
it
—
oh
,
such
a
little
,
little
part
compared
to
—
—
'
And
she
looked
imploringly
at
him
.
He
was
deeply
moved
.
'
My
child
,
'
he
said
again
,
and
the
ominous
repetition
of
the
word
shook
her
fragile
edifice
of
hopes
to
its
brittle
foundation
,
'
you
have
always
looked
upon
me
as
a
friend
,
have
you
not
?
'
She
shook
her
head
.
'
Well
,
then
,
'
he
added
,
correcting
himself
,
'
as
one
who
cared
for
and
understood
you
,
and
whose
earnest
wish
was
to
see
you
happy
?
'
She
did
not
answer
.
He
had
known
difficult
hours
,
but
none
more
difficult
than
this
.
He
felt
as
if
he
were
trying
with
awkward
hands
to
hold
a
butterfly
without
injuring
it
,
in
order
to
release
it
from
the
pane
of
glass
against
which
it
was
beating
its
butterfly
heart
out
.
'
To
see
you
happy
,
'
he
went
on
,
with
authority
as
well
as
tenderness
in
his
level
voice
.
'
I
should
never
see
that
;
I
should
have
no
real
'
—
he
hesitated
—
'
affection
for
you
at
all
if
I
allowed
you
to
make
such
a
woeful
mistake
in
your
early
youth
before
you
know
what
love
and
life
are
.
They
are
terrible
things
,
Sibyl
;
I
have
known
them
.
This
beautiful
generous
feeling
which
you
have
for
me
is
not
love
,
and
I
should
be
base
indeed
to
allow
you
to
wreck
your
life
upon
it
,
your
youth
upon
the
rock
of
my
age
.
You
offer
you
know
not
what
;
you
would
sacrifice
you
know
not
what
.
'
He
smiled
gravely
at
her
,
endeavouring
to
soothe
her
growing
agitation
.
'
It
would
be
like
taking
the
Koh-i-Noor
out
of
the
hand
of
a
child
.
I
could
not
do
it
.
'
Her
mind
was
in
too
great
a
tumult
wholly
to
understand
him
,
but
one
thing
was
clear
to
her
,
namely
,
that
he
was
refusing
to
marry
her
.
She
snatched
her
hands
out
of
his
,
and
,
starting
wildly
to
her
feet
with
an
inarticulate
cry
,
ran
a
short
distance
and
flung
herself
down
on
her
face
among
the
bracken
.
He
looked
after
her
,
but
he
did
not
follow
her
.
He
could
do
no
more
,
and
a
sense
of
exhaustion
and
distress
was
upon
him
.
He
had
been
clumsy
.
He
had
hurt
the
poor
butterfly
,
after
all
.
He
sat
a
long
time
on
the
tree-trunk
,
the
low
sunshine
on
his
worn
,
patient
face
,
on
which
the
refinement
of
suffering
and
of
thought
had
set
their
indelible
stamp
.
And
now
the
thin
high
features
wore
a
new
look
of
present
distress
over
the
old
outlived
troubles
,
a
new
look
which
anyone
who
really
loved
him
would
have
been
heart-stricken
to
have
called
into
it
.
But
when
love
ceases
to
wound
its
object
,
and
bears
its
own
cross
,
it
has
ceased
to
be
young
.
As
he
sat
motionless
the
sun
sank
.
Far
in
the
amber
west
the
heavens
had
opened
in
an
agony
of
glory
.
The
knotted
arms
of
the
great
oaks
,
upraised
like
those
of
Moses
and
his
brethren
,
shone
red
as
flame
against
the
darkness
of
the
forest
.
The
first
hint
of
chill
after
the
great
heat
came
into
the
still
air
.
Mr.
Loftus
rose
and
went
slowly
towards
the
prostrate
figure
in
its
delicate
gleaming
gown
.
'
Sibyl
,
'
he
said
gently
,
but
with
authority
,
'
you
must
get
up
.
I
see
Doll
and
your
cousin
coming
up
the
glade
to
meet
us
.
'
Sibyl
started
violently
and
raised
herself
,
turning
a
white
,
hopeless
face
towards
him
.
Her
entire
self-abandonment
,
which
would
have
brought
acute
humiliation
to
another
woman
,
brought
none
to
her
.
Her
despair
was
too
complete
to
admit
of
any
other
feeling
.
'
Like
a
child
's
,
'
he
thought
,
as
he
looked
at
her
sorrowing
.
He
helped
her
to
smooth
her
gown
,
and
he
set
her
hat
straight
,
and
took
some
pieces
of
dried
bracken
out
of
her
crumpled
shining
hair
.
She
let
him
do
it
,
neither
helping
nor
hindering
him
.
She
evidently
did
not
care
what
impression
might
be
made
on
the
minds
of
the
two
young
people
leisurely
approaching
them
.
She
would
have
lain
on
the
ground
if
it
had
been
a
bog
instead
of
dry
turf
until
the
ice
fit
of
despair
had
passed
.
His
thoughtfulness
for
her
,
and
the
ashen
tint
of
his
face
,
were
nothing
to
her
,
any
more
than
the
moonshine
is
to
the
child
who
has
cried
for
the
moon
and
has
been
denied
it
.
At
Mr.
Loftus
's
bidding
they
went
slowly
to
meet
the
others
.
'
Doll
,
'
said
Mr.
Loftus
,
lingering
behind
as
Peggy
and
Sibyl
walked
on
together
,
'
give
me
your
arm
.
I
feel
ill
.
'
'
Wo
n't
she
have
me
?
'
said
Doll
,
biting
his
lip
.
'
No
,
my
poor
boy
,
she
wo
n't
.
'
CHAPTER
II
.
'
But
we
are
tired
.
At
Life
's
crude
hands
We
ask
no
gift
she
understands
;
But
kneel
to
him
she
hates
to
crave
The
absolution
of
the
grave
.
'
Mathilde
Blind
.
The
laws
of
attraction
remain
a
mystery
.
Their
results
we
see
.
Glimpses
of
their
workings
can
occasionally
be
caught
in
their
broken
fragments
.
But
the
curve
by
which
the
circle
may
be
drawn
is
nowhere
to
be
found
among
those
fragments
.
The
first
cause
we
cannot
see
.
With
sacrilegious
hands
we
may
rend
the
veil
of
its
temple
in
the
sacred
name
of
truth
,
but
we
shall
find
nothing
in
its
holy
of
holies
save
the
bloodstains
of
generations
of
sacrifices
on
its
empty
altar
,
and
the
place
where
the
ark
has
been
.
Youth
,
beauty
,
wit
—
all
these
attract
;
but
they
are
only
the
momentary
disciples
of
a
great
master
,
and
their
power
is
from
him
.
In
his
name
they
perform
a
few
works
,
and
cast
out
a
few
small
devils
.
But
now
and
again
a
nature
appears
in
our
midst
in
the
presence
of
which
youth
sinks
its
voice
,
and
beauty
pales
and
hangs
its
head
,
and
wit
bends
its
knee
in
reverence
.
What
talisman
had
Mr.
Loftus
brought
into
the
world
with
him
that
disinterested
love
and
devotion
should
with
one
exception
have
followed
him
all
the
days
of
his
life
?
But
whether
it
had
been
given
to
him
at
his
birth
,
or
he
had
found
it
alone
upon
the
hillside
,
or
Sorrow
,
who
has
many
treasures
in
her
lap
,
but
will
never
give
them
to
those
who
turn
from
her
,
gave
it
to
him
when
he
kissed
her
hand
—
however
this
may
have
been
,
he
had
it
.
He
had
gone
through
his
difficult
life
little
realizing
how
much
he
owed
to
the
impersonal
love
and
respect
which
he
inspired
in
men
and
women
,
as
a
beautiful
woman
seldom
realizes
how
life
has
been
coloured
for
her
by
the
colour
of
her
hair
and
eyes
.
His
poetic
exalted
nature
,
with
its
tender
affections
,
its
deep
passions
,
with
its
refinement
and
its
delicacy
of
feeling
,
too
sensitive
to
bear
contact
with
this
rough
world
,
and
yet
not
content
to
dwell
apart
from
awkward
fellow-creatures
who
wounded
when
they
touched
it
,
had
leaned
twice
on
the
frail
reed
of
personal
love
,
and
twice
it
had
pierced
his
hand
.
After
the
second
time
he
withdrew
his
scarred
hand
in
silence
,
and
journeyed
on
with
it
in
his
bosom
.
In
the
days
of
his
youth
he
had
been
swept
into
the
vortex
of
a
deep
passion
which
for
the
time
engulfed
his
whole
being
.
His
early
marriage
and
his
romantic
love
,
and
his
young
wife
's
desertion
of
him
,
consumed
like
a
rolling
prairie-fire
his
early
life
.
But
he
had
emerged
with
the
mark
of
fire
upon
him
,
and
had
taken
up
life
again
,
and
had
made
a
career
for
himself
in
the
world
of
politics
.
And
he
had
reached
middle
age
,
he
was
a
grave
man
with
gray
in
his
hair
,
before
love
came
to
him
the
second
time
.
How
he
fared
the
second
time
no
man
knew
;
but
afterwards
the
love
of
woman
,
deep-rooted
though
it
was
,
died
down
in
Mr.
Loftus
's
heart
.
He
went
quietly
on
his
way
,
but
the
way
wearied
him
.
He
confided
in
no
one
,
for
he
was
burdened
with
many
confidences
,
and
those
on
whom
others
lean
can
seldom
find
a
hand
to
lean
on
in
their
greater
weakness
and
their
deeper
troubles
.
But
his
physical
health
wavered
.
At
last
his
heart
became
affected
,
and
after
a
few
warnings
he
was
obliged
to
give
up
public
life
.
He
ceased
to
be
in
authority
,
but
he
remained
an
authority
,
and
so
lived
patiently
on
from
year
to
year
on
the
verge
of
the
grave
,
aware
that
at
any
moment
the
next
step
might
be
across
its
brink
.
He
had
spoken
the
bare
truth
to
Sibyl
when
he
told
her
that
his
life
hung
by
a
thread
.
That
this
is
so
with
all
human
life
is
a
truism
to
which
we
all
agree
,
but
which
none
of
us
believe
.
But
in
his
case
the
sword
of
Damocles
was
visible
in
the
air
above
him
.
He
never
took
for
granted
,
if
he
went
out
for
a
walk
,
that
he
should
return
;
and
on
this
particular
May
afternoon
,
as
he
looked
out
from
a
friend
's
house
in
Park
Lane
across
the
street
to
the
twinkle
of
green
and
the
coloured
bands
of
hyacinths
beyond
the
railings
,
he
locked
his
writing-table
drawer
from
force
of
long
habit
,
and
burned
the
letters
he
had
just
read
as
carefully
as
if
he
were
going
on
a
long
journey
,
instead
of
a
short
stroll
across
the
park
to
Lady
Pierpoint
's
house
in
Kensington
.
It
was
a
heavy
trouble
that
he
had
just
locked
into
the
writing-table
drawer
—
nothing
less
than
the
sale
of
Wilderleigh
,
which
he
and
Doll
,
after
much
laying
together
of
the
gray
head
and
the
brown
one
,
had
both
come
to
the
conclusion
could
not
be
staved
off
any
longer
.
For
the
newly-imposed
death-duties
and
the
increasing
pressure
of
taxation
on
land
,
in
the
teeth
of
increasing
agricultural
depression
,
had
been
the
death-blow
of
Wilderleigh
,
as
of
so
many
other
quiet
country
homes
and
their
owners
.
The
new
aristocracy
of
the
ironmaster
and
the
cheesemonger
and
the
brewer
had
come
to
the
birth
,
and
the
old
must
give
way
before
the
power
of
their
money
.
Mr.
Loftus
accepted
the
inevitable
,
and
Wilderleigh
was
to
be
sold
.
He
did
not
know
for
certain
where
Lady
Pierpoint
was
to
be
found
,
but
he
would
try
the
little
house
in
Kensington
.
He
had
seen
her
driving
alone
the
previous
day
,
and
he
knew
that
she
had
quite
recently
returned
with
her
daughter
and
niece
from
Egypt
,
where
they
had
spent
the
winter
months
.
Something
in
the
glimpse
of
her
passing
face
yesterday
had
awakened
in
him
a
vague
suspicion
that
she
was
in
trouble
.
She
looked
older
and
grayer
,
and
why
was
she
alone
?
He
took
up
his
hat
and
,
entering
the
Park
,
struck
across
the
grass
in
the
direction
of
the
Albert
Memorial
,
blinking
in
all
its
gilt
in
the
afternoon
sun
.
The
blent
green
and
gray
of
a
May
day
in
London
had
translated
the
prose
of
the
Park
into
poetry
.
Here
in
the
very
heart
of
the
vast
machine
,
Spring
had
ventured
to
alight
for
a
moment
,
undisturbed
by
the
distant
roar
of
dusty
struggling
life
all
round
her
.
The
new
leaves
on
the
smoke-black
branches
of
the
trees
were
for
a
moment
green
as
those
unfolding
in
country
lanes
.
Smoke-black
among
the
silvery
grass
men
lay
strewn
in
the
sunshine
,
looking
like
cast-off
rags
flung
down
,
outworn
by
humanity
,
whose
great
pulse
was
throbbing
so
near
at
hand
.
Across
the
tender
beauty
of
the
young
year
fell
the
shadow
of
crime
and
exhaustion
,
and
'
the
every-day
tragedy
of
the
cheapness
of
man
.
'
The
shadow
fell
on
Mr.
Loftus
's
mind
,
and
he
had
well-nigh
reached
Lady
Pierpoint
's
door
before
his
thoughts
returned
to
her
and
to
her
niece
,
Sibyl
Carruthers
.
'
Pretty
,
delicate
,
impulsive
creature
,
so
generous
,
so
ignorant
,
so
full
of
the
ephemeral
enthusiasms
of
youth
which
have
no
staying
power
.
The
real
enthusiasms
of
life
are
made
of
sterner
stuff
than
she
,
poor
child
!
guesses
.
What
will
become
of
her
?
What
man
in
the
future
will
take
her
ardent
,
fragile
devotion
,
and
hold
it
without
breaking
it
,
and
bask
in
the
green
springtide
of
her
love
without
desecrating
it
,
like
those
poor
outcasts
in
the
Park
?
'
Lady
Pierpoint
was
at
home
,
and
he
was
presently
ushered
into
the
drawing-room
,
where
she
was
sitting
in
her
walking
things
.
The
room
was
without
flowers
,
without
books
,
without
any
of
the
small
landmarks
of
occupation
.
It
had
evidently
been
arranged
only
for
the
briefest
stay
,
and
had
as
little
welcome
in
it
as
a
narrow
mind
.
Lady
Pierpoint
,
pouring
tea
out
of
a
metal
teapot
into
an
enormous
teacup
,
looked
also
as
if
she
were
on
the
point
of
departure
.
She
greeted
him
cordially
,
and
sent
for
another
cup
.
A
further
glance
showed
him
that
she
looked
worn
and
harassed
.
Her
cheerful
motherly
face
was
beginning
to
droop
like
a
mastiff
's
at
the
corners
of
the
mouth
,
in
the
manner
in
which
anxiety
cruelly
writes
itself
on
plump
middle-aged
faces
.
'
I
am
not
really
visible
,
'
she
said
,
smiling
,
as
she
handed
him
the
large
cup
which
matched
her
own
.
'
I
cannot
bring
forth
butter
in
a
lordly
dish
,
as
you
perceive
,
for
everything
is
locked
up
.
I
am
here
only
for
two
days
,
cook-hunting
.
'
Mr.
Loftus
had
intended
to
ask
after
Sibyl
,
but
he
asked
after
Peggy
instead
.
'
She
is
quite
well
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
.
'
She
is
always
well
,
I
am
thankful
to
say
.
I
have
another
Peggy
coming
out
this
year
—
Molly
—
perhaps
you
remember
her
;
but
how
to
bring
her
to
London
this
season
I
do
n't
know
.
I
have
hardly
seen
anything
of
her
all
last
winter
,
poor
child
!
as
I
was
in
Egypt
with
Sibyl
.
I
have
only
just
returned
to
England
.
'
'
And
Miss
Carruthers
?
'
he
said
,
examining
his
metal
teaspoon
;
'
will
not
she
be
in
London
with
you
this
season
,
with
your
own
daughters
?
'
'
No
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
,
looking
narrowly
at
him
;
'
Sibyl
is
ill.
I
have
been
very
anxious
about
her
all
the
winter
.
I
greatly
fear
that
she
will
sink
into
a
decline
.
You
know
,
her
sister
died
of
consumption
a
year
or
two
ago
.
'
Mr.
Loftus
looked
blankly
at
Lady
Pierpoint
.
'
Sibyl
!
'
he
said
—
'
ill
?
Oh
,
surely
there
is
some
mistake
?
What
do
the
doctors
say
?
'
'
They
all
say
the
same
thing
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
,
her
lips
quivering
.
'
She
had
a
cough
last
winter
,
and
she
is
naturally
delicate
,
but
there
is
no
actual
disease
as
yet
.
But
if
she
continues
in
this
morbid
state
of
health
—
if
she
goes
on
as
she
is
at
present
—
they
say
it
will
end
in
that
.
'
Mr.
Loftus
was
silent
.
Lady
Pierpoint
looked
at
his
unconscious
,
saddened
,
world-weary
face
,
and
clasped
her
hands
tightly
together
.
'
Mr
.
Loftus
,
'
she
said
,
'
I
am
going
to
put
a
great
strain
on
our
friendship
,
and
if
I
lose
it
,
I
must
lose
it
.
I
have
been
thinking
of
writing
to
you
,
but
I
could
not
.
I
had
thought
of
asking
you
to
come
and
see
me
while
I
was
alone
here
,
but
my
courage
failed
me
.
But
now
that
you
have
come
by
what
is
called
chance
,
I
dare
not
be
a
coward
any
longer
.
Sibyl
has
told
me
of
what
passed
last
summer
between
you
and
her
.
'
A
faint
colour
came
into
Mr.
Loftus
's
pale
face
.
He
kept
his
eyes
on
the
floor
.
'
I
think
,
'
he
said
gently
,
but
with
a
touch
of
reserve
in
his
voice
which
did
not
escape
his
companion
,
'
we
must
both
forget
that
as
completely
as
she
herself
has
probably
already
forgotten
it
.
'
'
She
has
not
forgotten
it
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
,
ignoring
,
though
with
a
pang
,
his
evident
wish
to
dismiss
the
subject
.
'
It
is
that
which
is
causing
her
ill-health
.
She
can
think
of
nothing
else
.
Some
of
us
,
'
she
said
sadly
,
'
are
so
constituted
that
we
can
bear
trouble
and
disappointment
—
others
ca
n't
.
This
poor
child
,
who
has
cried
for
the
moon
,
is
not
mentally
and
physically
strong
enough
to
bear
the
disappointment
of
being
denied
it
.
And
the
doctors
say
that
her
life
is
dependent
on
her
happiness
.
'
Mr.
Loftus
rose
,
and
paced
up
and
down
the
room
.
She
dared
not
look
at
him
.
Presently
he
stopped
,
and
,
with
his
face
turned
away
,
said
with
emotion
:
'
But
the
moon
is
a
dreary
place
if
it
is
seen
as
it
is
,
with
its
extinct
volcanoes
and
its
ice-fields
.
Nothing
lives
there
.
The
fire
in
it
is
burnt
out
,
and
there
is
snow
over
the
ashes
.
It
is
only
in
the
eyes
of
a
child
that
the
moon
is
bright
.
We
elders
know
that
it
is
dark
and
desolate
.
'
Lady
Pierpoint
was
awed
.
She
had
known
Mr.
Loftus
for
twenty
years
.
He
had
been
kind
to
her
in
the
early
years
of
her
widowhood
,
and
in
the
later
ones
had
helped
on
her
boys
by
his
influence
in
high
quarters
.
She
had
often
told
him
of
her
difficulties
,
but
she
had
never
till
now
heard
him
speak
of
himself
.
Her
great
admiration
for
him
,
which
was
of
a
humbler
kind
than
Sibyl
's
,
led
her
to
say
:
'
It
is
not
only
in
the
child
's
eyes
that
the
moon
is
bright
.
'
She
might
have
added
with
truth
that
in
her
own
middle-aged
eyes
it
was
bright
,
too
.
'
I
greatly
honoured
you
when
Sibyl
told
me
about
it
,
'
she
continued
,
after
a
long
pause
.
'
It
is
because
I
have
entire
trust
in
you
that
I
have
told
you
the
truth
about
this
poor
child
,
who
is
as
dear
to
me
as
my
own
,
though
I
hope
my
own
will
face
life
more
bravely
.
Should
you
,
after
reflection
,
feel
able
to
do
her
this
—
this
—
great
kindness
,
I
hope
you
will
come
and
stay
with
us
at
Abergower
for
Whitsuntide
.
But
—
I
shall
not
expect
you
,
and
I
shall
not
mention
to
anyone
that
I
have
asked
you
.
'
She
rose
and
held
out
her
hand
.
She
looked
tired
.
He
held
it
a
moment
,
and
she
endeavoured
to
read
the
grave
,
inscrutable
glance
that
met
hers
,
but
she
could
not
.
'
Thank
you
,
'
he
said
,
and
went
away
.
'
How
dare
she
think
of
him
?
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
to
herself
.
CHAPTER
III
.
'
L'amour
est
une
source
naïve
,
partie
de
son
lit
de
cresson
,
de
fleurs
,
de
gravier
,
qui
,
rivière
,
qui
,
fleuve
,
change
de
nature
et
d'aspect
à
chaque
flot
.
'
—
De
Balzac
.
In
England
Spring
is
a
poem
.
In
the
Highlands
of
Scotland
she
has
the
intensity
of
a
passion
.
The
crags
and
steeps
are
possessed
by
her
;
they
stand
transfigured
like
a
stern
man
in
the
eyes
of
his
bride
.
And
here
in
these
solemn
depths
and
lonely
heights
,
as
nowhere
else
,
shy
Spring
abandons
herself
,
secure
in
the
fastnesses
where
her
every
freak
is
loved
.
She
sets
the
broom
ablaze
among
the
gray
rocks
,
yellow
along
the
river
's
edge
,
yet
hardly
yellower
than
the
leaves
on
the
young
oak
just
above
.
The
larches
hear
her
voice
,
and
hundred
by
hundred
peep
over
each
other
's
heads
upon
the
hillside
,
all
a-tremble
with
fairy
green
.
The
shoots
of
the
dwarf
cherry
,
scattered
wide
upon
the
uplands
,
are
pink
among
the
grass
.
The
primroses
are
everywhere
,
though
it
is
Whitsuntide
—
behind
the
stones
,
among
the
broom
,
beside
the
little
tumbling
streams
,
in
every
crevice
,
and
on
every
foothold
.
The
mountain-ash
holds
its
white
blossoms
aloft
in
its
careful
spreading
fingers
.
Even
the
silver
birch
forgets
its
sadness
while
spring
reigns
in
Scotland
.
There
are
those
to
whom
she
speaks
of
love
,
but
there
are
many
more
to
whom
she
whispers
,
'
Be
comforted
.
'
When
hope
leaves
us
,
it
is
well
to
go
out
into
the
woods
and
listen
to
what
Spring
has
to
say
.
Though
life
is
gray
,
the
primroses
are
coming
up
all
the
same
,
and
the
young
shafts
of
the
bluebell
pierce
the
soft
earth
in
spite
of
our
heartache
.
A
hedge-sparrow
has
built
him
a
house
in
the
nearest
tangle
of
white
hawthorn
.
There
will
be
children
's
voices
in
it
presently
.
Be
comforted
.
Hope
is
gone
,
but
not
lost
.
You
shall
meet
her
again
in
the
faces
of
the
children
,
God
's
other
primroses
.
She
is
not
lost
.
She
has
only
taken
her
hand
out
of
yours
.
Be
comforted
.
But
Sibyl
refused
to
be
comforted
.
Her
love
for
Mr.
Loftus
,
if
small
things
may
be
called
by
large
names
,
was
the
first
violent
emotion
of
a
feeble
and
impulsive
mind
in
a
feeble
body
,
both
swayed
by
veering
influences
,
both
shaken
by
the
changing
currents
of
early
womanhood
,
as
a
silver
birch
is
shaken
with
its
leaves
.
A
woman
with
a
deeper
heart
,
and
with
a
slight
perception
of
Mr.
Loftus
's
character
,
would
have
reverently
folded
her
devotion
in
her
heart
and
have
gone
on
her
way
ennobled
by
it
.
But
with
Sibyl
,
to
admire
anything
was
to
wish
to
possess
it
;
to
tire
of
anything
was
to
cast
it
away
.
Mr.
Loftus
was
in
her
eyes
without
an
equal
in
the
world
.
Therefore
—
the
reasoning
from
her
point
of
view
was
conclusive
—
she
must
marry
him
.
She
had
no
knowledge
,
she
had
not
even
a
glimpse
,
of
the
gulf
of
feeling
,
far
wider
than
the
gulf
of
years
,
which
separated
him
from
her
.
She
imagined
no
one
appreciated
him
,
or
entered
into
the
dark
places
of
his
mind
,
as
she
did
.
She
mistook
his
patient
comprehension
of
her
trivial
aspirations
,
and
his
unfailing
kindness
to
all
young
and
crude
ideas
,
for
the
perfect
sympathy
of
two
kindred
souls
,
and
was
wont
to
speak
mysteriously
to
Peggy
of
how
minds
that
were
really
related
drew
each
other
out
and
enriched
each
other
.
It
is
always
a
dangerous
experiment
to
awaken
a
sleeping
soul
to
the
pageant
of
life
.
Mr.
Loftus
had
endeavoured
to
do
this
for
Sibyl
,
consciously
,
gently
,
with
great
care
,
out
of
the
mixed
admiration
and
pity
with
which
she
inspired
him
,
in
the
hope
that
,
in
later
years
,
when
her
feet
would
be
swept
from
under
her
,
she
might
find
something
to
cling
to
,
amid
the
wreck
of
happiness
which
his
dispassionate
gaze
foresaw
that
she
would
one
day
achieve
out
of
her
life
.
He
had
run
the
risk
which
all
who
would
fain
help
others
must
be
content
to
run
—
the
risk
that
their
work
will
be
thrown
away
.
He
saw
that
the
little
rock-pool
which
reflected
his
own
face
was
shallow
,
but
he
had
not
gauged
the
measure
of
its
shallowness
.
His
deep
enthusiasms
,
tried
and
tempered
before
she
was
born
,
weary
now
with
his
own
weariness
,
aroused
hers
as
the
Atlantic
wave
,
sweeping
up
the
rocks
,
just
reaches
and
arouses
the
rock-pool
,
and
sends
a
flight
of
ripples
over
it
,
which
,
if
you
look
very
close
,
break
in
mimic
waves
against
the
further
edge
.
And
before
the
thunder
of
the
wave
is
silent
the
pool
is
glass
once
more
.
On
natures
like
these
the
only
influence
which
can
make
any
impression
is
a
personal
one
.
It
is
overwhelming
while
it
lasts
;
but
it
is
the
teacher
who
is
every
thing
—
the
teaching
is
nothing
.
And
when
he
is
removed
,
they
passively
drift
under
another
personal
influence
,
as
under
another
wave
,
and
the
work
of
the
first
,
the
foundation
patiently
and
lovingly
built
in
its
pretty
yellow
sand
,
is
swept
away
,
or
remains
in
futile
fragments
,
as
a
mark
of
the
folly
of
one
who
built
on
sand
.
Certain
strong
,
abiding
principles
Mr.
Loftus
had
sought
to
instil
into
Sibyl
's
mind
.
She
had
perceived
their
truth
and
beauty
;
but
she
cared
nothing
for
them
in
reality
,
and
had
fallen
at
the
feet
of
the
man
who
had
awakened
those
exquisite
feelings
in
her
.
And
now
either
she
would
not
,
or
could
not
,
get
up
.
She
clung
to
her
imaginary
passion
with
all
the
obstinacy
which
is
inherent
in
weak
natures
.
The
disappointment
had
undermined
her
delicately-poised
health
.
As
she
walked
down
towards
the
Spey
alone
on
this
particular
June
afternoon
,
she
looked
more
fragile
and
ethereal
than
ever
.
The
faint
colour
had
gone
from
her
cheek
,
and
with
it
half
her
evanescent
prettiness
had
departed
.
Her
slight
,
willowy
figure
seemed
to
have
no
substance
beneath
the
many
folds
of
white
material
in
which
her
despairing
dressmaker
had
draped
her
.
With
the
suicidal
recklessness
of
youth
,
she
made
no
attempt
to
turn
her
mind
to
other
thoughts
,
but
pondered
instead
upon
her
trouble
,
with
the
unreasoning
rebellion
against
it
with
which
,
in
early
life
,
we
all
meet
these
friends
in
disguise
.
She
picked
her
way
down
the
steep
hillside
,
through
the
wakened
broom
and
sleeping
heather
,
and
along
the
edge
of
the
little
oasis
of
oatfield
,
where
so
many
thousands
of
round
,
river-worn
stones
had
been
gleaned
into
heaps
,
and
where
so
many
thousands
still
remained
among
the
springing
corn
.
The
long
labour
and
the
patience
and
the
partial
failure
which
that
little
field
meant
,
reclaimed
from
the
heather
,
but
not
wholly
reclaimed
from
the
stones
,
had
often
touched
Lady
Pierpoint
,
who
knew
what
labour
was
;
but
it
did
not
appeal
to
Sibyl
.
She
sat
down
with
a
sigh
on
the
river-bank
,
a
forlorn
white
blot
against
the
crowded
world
of
green
,
with
Crack
,
her
little
Scotch
terrier
,
beside
her
,
and
looked
listlessly
across
the
sliding
water
,
which
ran
deep
and
brown
as
Crack
's
brown
eyes
,
and
loitered
shallow
and
yellow
as
a
yellow
sapphire
among
its
clean
gray
stones
and
gleaming
rocks
.
A
pair
of
oyster-catchers
sped
upstream
,
low
over
the
water
,
swift
as
eye
could
follow
,
with
glad
cries
,
like
disembodied
spirits
that
have
found
wings
at
last
and
feel
the
first
rapture
of
proving
them
.
'
Happy
birds
!
'
said
Sibyl
to
herself
.
'
They
do
not
know
what
trouble
means
.
'
Crack
,
who
had
heard
this
sentiment
,
or
something
very
like
it
,
before
,
stretched
himself
methodically
,
both
front-legs
together
first
,
and
then
the
hind-legs
one
by
one
,
and
walked
slowly
down
to
the
edge
of
the
water
and
sniffed
sadly
,
as
one
who
knows
that
search
is
vain
among
the
stones
for
a
rat
which
is
not
there
.
Crack
had
a
fixed
melancholy
which
nothing
could
dispel
.
His
early
life
had
been
passed
in
the
activity
of
a
camp
,
and
his
spirit
seemed
to
have
been
permanently
embittered
by
the
close
contemplation
of
military
character
.
He
had
been
round
the
world
.
He
knew
the
principal
smells
of
our
Eastern
empire
,
but
no
reminiscences
of
his
many
travels
served
to
brighten
the
gloomy
tenor
of
his
thoughts
.
He
was
sad
,
disillusioned
,
still
apt
to
hurry
and
shorten
himself
through
doors
,
and
to
retreat
under
sofas
to
brood
over
imaginary
wrongs
.
All
games
distressed
him
.
He
went
indoors
at
once
when
the
red
ball
was
produced
which
transformed
Peter
from
an
elegant
poodle
into
a
bounding
demon
.
But
in
spite
of
his
melancholy
he
was
liked
.
He
went
out
but
little
,
but
where
he
went
he
was
welcomed
.
He
was
a
gentleman
and
a
man
of
the
world
.
No
dog
ever
quarrelled
with
him
.
He
met
bristling
overtures
with
a
mournful
tact
which
turned
growls
into
waggings
of
tails
.
He
himself
was
seldom
seen
to
wag
his
tail
,
except
in
his
sleep
.
He
returned
from
the
water
's
edge
and
sat
down
on
an
outlying
fold
of
Sibyl
's
gown
.
In
the
sunny
stillness
a
wild-duck
,
with
cautious
,
advanced
neck
,
and
a
little
fleet
of
water-babies
,
paddled
past
,
bobbing
on
the
amber
shallows
.
Crack
raised
his
ears
and
watched
them
.
His
feelings
were
so
entirely
under
control
that
he
could
scratch
himself
while
observing
an
object
of
interest
;
and
he
did
so
now
.
But
he
did
not
move
from
his
seat
on
Sibyl
's
gown
.
He
was
disillusioned
about
wild-ducks
,
who
did
not
play
fair
and
stick
to
one
element
,
but
would
take
to
their
wings
when
hard
pressed
in
the
water
,
like
a
woman
who
changes
her
ground
when
cornered
in
argument
.
Presently
the
afternoon
sun
shifted
,
and
all
the
larches
on
the
steep
hillside
opposite
and
all
the
broom
along
the
bank
stooped
to
gaze
at
a
flickering
fairyland
of
broom
and
larches
in
the
wide
water
.
The
deep
valley
of
the
river
was
drowned
in
light
.
Only
the
bank
on
which
Sibyl
was
sitting
under
the
mountain-ash
had
fallen
suddenly
into
shadow
.
'
Like
my
life
,
'
she
thought
,
and
rose
to
go
.
Who
was
this
coming
slowly
towards
her
along
the
little
path
by
the
water
's
edge
?
She
stood
still
,
trembling
,
her
hands
pressed
against
her
breast
.
It
was
he
.
It
was
Mr.
Loftus
.
He
was
looking
for
her
.
He
was
coming
to
her
.
Joy
and
terror
seized
her
.
He
saw
her
standing
motionless
in
her
white
gown
under
the
white
blossom-laden
tree
.
And
as
he
drew
near
and
took
her
nerveless
hands
in
silence
,
and
looked
into
her
face
,
he
saw
again
in
her
deep
eyes
the
shy
,
imploring
glance
which
had
met
him
once
before
—
the
mute
entreaty
of
love
to
be
suffered
to
live
.
'
Sibyl
,
'
he
said
,
and
in
his
voice
there
was
reverence
as
well
as
tenderness
—
reverence
for
her
untarnished
youth
,
and
tenderness
for
the
white
flower
of
love
which
it
had
put
forth
,
'
will
you
be
my
wife
?
'
CHAPTER
IV
.
'
J'ai
vu
sous
le
soleil
tomber
bien
d'autres
choses
Que
les
feuilles
des
bois
et
l'écume
des
eaux
,
Bien
d'autres
s'en
aller
que
le
parfum
des
roses
Et
le
chant
des
oiseaux
.
'
Alfred
de
Musset
.
'
Mummy
,
'
said
Peggy
,
a
few
days
later
,
coming
into
her
mother
's
sitting-room
and
pressing
her
round
,
cool
cheek
against
Lady
Pierpoint
's
,
'
why
does
Sibyl
want
to
marry
Mr.
Loftus
?
'
'
Because
she
thinks
she
loves
him
,
Peggy
,
as
many
other
women
have
done
before
her
.
'
'
I
think
I
love
him
,
too
,
in
a
way
,
'
said
Peggy
.
'
He
is
better
than
anybody
.
When
I
am
with
him
,
I
feel
—
I
do
n't
know
what
I
feel
,
only
I
know
it
's
good
,
and
I
want
to
do
something
for
him
,
or
make
him
something
really
pretty
for
his
handkerchiefs
;
but
—
I
do
n't
want
to
marry
him
.
'
'
That
is
as
well
,
my
treasure
,
as
he
is
going
to
marry
Sibyl
.
'
'
I
never
thought
he
would
marry
anybody
.
I
ca
n't
believe
it
.
It
seems
as
if
it
could
not
happen
.
'
'
It
will
happen
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
,
'
if
he
lives
.
'
'
Sibyl
says
,
'
continued
Peggy
,
'
that
he
enters
into
her
feelings
as
no
one
else
does
,
and
that
she
understands
him
,
and
that
hardly
anyone
else
does
except
her
,
because
he
is
so
superior
.
'
'
Indeed
!
'
'
And
she
says
she
can
speak
to
him
of
aspirations
and
things
that
she
ca
n't
even
mention
to
Molly
and
me
.
She
says
it
is
n't
our
fault
—
it
is
only
because
we
are
different
to
her
.
'
'
You
are
certainly
very
different
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
,
compressing
her
lips
.
'
And
to
think
that
she
might
have
married
Mr.
Doll
,
'
continued
Peggy
,
as
if
Sibyl
's
actions
were
indeed
inscrutable
.
'
Mr
.
Doll
will
be
twenty-eight
next
August
.
He
was
twenty-seven
when
we
were
at
Wilderleigh
last
year
.
If
I
had
been
Sibyl
,
I
would
have
married
him
,
and
then
I
'll
tell
you
,
mummy
,
what
I
would
have
done
.
I
would
have
asked
Mr.
Loftus
to
let
us
live
with
him
at
Wilderleigh
,
and
I
would
have
taken
such
care
of
him
—
oh
!
such
care
—
and
I
would
have
spent
whole
bags
of
money
on
the
farms
and
fences
and
things
,
and
he
would
have
been
happy
,
and
Mr.
Doll
would
have
been
happy
,
too
.
'
'
Peggy
,
'
said
Lady
Pierpoint
,
'
shall
I
tell
you
a
secret
?
I
think
that
is
exactly
what
Mr.
Loftus
hoped
Sibyl
would
do
.
'
Mr.
Loftus
returned
to
London
a
day
or
two
later
,
and
had
an
interview
with
Doll
the
day
before
the
announcement
of
the
engagement
appeared
in
the
Morning
Post
.
Mr.
Loftus
was
attached
to
his
nephew
—
people
always
looked
upon
Doll
as
his
nephew
,
though
he
was
in
reality
his
first
cousin
—
and
to
him
and
to
him
alone
he
told
the
circumstances
which
had
led
to
his
engagement
.
What
passed
between
the
elder
man
and
the
young
one
during
that
interview
will
never
be
known
.
But
when
at
last
Mr.
Loftus
left
him
,
Doll
sat
for
a
long
time
looking
over
the
geraniums
into
the
park
.
The
somewhat
dull
,
unimaginative
soul
that
dwelt
behind
his
handsome
expressionless
face
was
vaguely
stirred
.
'
It
's
a
mistake
,
'
he
said
at
last
,
half
aloud
.
'
But
Uncle
George
is
on
the
square
;
he
always
is
.
'
And
when
he
was
ruthlessly
twitted
next
day
by
his
brother
officers
on
being
cut
out
by
his
uncle
,
he
replied
simply
enough
:
'
He
is
a
better
man
than
me
,
as
all
you
fellows
know
.
She
would
not
have
looked
at
one
of
you
any
more
than
she
would
at
me
.
I
suppose
she
had
a
fancy
for
marrying
a
man
who
could
spell
,
which
none
of
us
can
.
'
'
Spelling
or
none
,
'
said
the
youngest
sub
—
'
which
is
an
indecent
subject
which
should
never
be
mentioned
between
gentlemen
—
anyhow
,
I
mean
to
borrow
a
thousand
or
a
fiver
off
him
.
Mr.
Loftus
always
tipped
me
at
school
.
'
One
of
Mr.
Loftus
's
first
actions
was
to
stop
the
preliminary
proceedings
regarding
the
sale
of
Wilderleigh
,
which
he
had
been
arranging
a
month
ago
,
on
the
afternoon
when
he
had
called
on
Lady
Pierpoint
.
It
was
like
awakening
from
a
nightmare
to
realize
that
Wilderleigh
would
not
be
sold
,
after
all
.
He
almost
wished
that
he
might
live
long
enough
to
set
the
place
in
order
for
Doll
.
The
engagement
was
a
nine
days
'
wonder
,
and
those
nine
days
were
purposely
spent
by
Mr.
Loftus
in
London
.
He
was
aware
that
many
cruel
things
would
be
said
at
his
expense
,
and
that
the
bare
fact
that
a
man
of
his
years
and
in
his
state
of
health
should
marry
a
young
heiress
,
and
so
great
an
heiress
as
Sibyl
Carruthers
,
must
call
forth
unfavourable
comments
.
People
who
did
not
know
him
said
it
was
perfectly
shameful
,
and
that
it
was
just
the
sort
of
thing
which
those
people
who
posed
as
being
so
extra
good
always
did
.
How
shocked
Mr.
Loftus
had
pretended
to
be
when
old
Lord
Bugbear
,
after
his
infamous
life
,
married
a
girl
of
seventeen
!
And
now
he
,
Mr.
Loftus
,
was
doing
exactly
the
same
himself
.
Of
course
he
had
a
very
fascinating
manner
—
just
the
kind
of
manner
to
impose
on
a
young
girl
who
,
like
Miss
Carruthers
,
knew
nothing
of
the
world
,
and
had
been
nowhere
.
And
everyone
knew
he
was
desperately
poor
.
Wilderleigh
could
hardly
pay
its
way
.
A
rumour
had
long
been
afloat
that
it
would
shortly
be
for
sale
.
If
he
had
not
been
so
hard
up
for
money
it
would
have
been
different
;
but
it
was
a
most
disgraceful
thing
,
and
Lady
Pierpoint
ought
to
be
ashamed
of
having
exposed
the
poor
motherless
girl
left
in
her
charge
to
his
designs
upon
her
.
They
wondered
how
much
Lady
Pierpoint
,
whose
means
were
narrow
,
had
been
bought
over
for
.
The
sums
varied
according
to
the
sordidness
of
the
different
speculators
,
who
of
course
named
their
own
price
.
Others
who
knew
Mr.
Loftus
were
puzzled
and
were
silent
.
To
know
him
at
all
was
to
believe
him
to
be
incapable
of
an
ignoble
action
;
yet
this
marriage
had
the
appearance
of
being
ignoble
—
not
,
perhaps
,
for
another
man
,
but
certainly
for
him
.
His
intimate
friends
were
dis
tressed
,
and
greeted
him
with
grave
cordiality
and
affection
,
and
hoped
for
an
explanation
.
He
gave
none
.
And
they
remembered
that
never
in
his
public
or
in
his
private
life
had
he
been
known
to
give
an
explanation
of
his
conduct
,
and
came
to
the
conclusion
that
they
must
trust
him
.
Mr.
Loftus
had
recognised
early
in
life
that
explanations
explain
nothing
.
If
those
who
had
had
opportunities
of
knowing
him
well
misjudged
him
after
those
opportunities
,
they
were
at
liberty
to
do
so
as
far
as
he
was
concerned
.
The
weight
of
an
enormous
acquaintance
oppressed
him
,
and
,
though
he
had
never
been
known
to
wound
anyone
by
withdrawing
from
an
unequal
friendship
,
which
he
had
not
been
the
one
to
begin
,
and
which
was
an
effort
to
him
to
continue
,
still
,
he
took
advantage
of
being
misunderstood
to
lay
aside
