I
　　LittleGyp，agednearlyfourandahalfthatfirstofMay，stoodattheedgeofthetulipborder，bowingtotwohenturkeyswhowerepokingtheirheadselegantlyhereandthereamongtheflowers。Shewasabsurdlylikehermother，thesameoval-shapedface，darkarchedbrows，largeandclearbrowneyes；butshehadthemodernchild’sopen-airlook；herhair，thatcurledoverattheends，wasnotallowedtobelong，andherpolishedbrownlegswerebaretotheknees。”Turkeys！Youaren’tgood，areyou？ComeON！”And，stretchingoutherhandswiththepalmsheldup，shebackedawayfromthetulip-bed。Theturkeys，trailingdelicatelytheirlong-toedfeetandutteringsoft，liquidinterrogations，movedafterherinhopesofwhatshewasnotholdinginherlittlebrownhands。Thesun，downinthewest，foritwaspasttea-time，slantedfromovertheroofoftheredhouse，andpaintedupthatsmallprocession——thedeepbluefrockoflittleGyp，theglintofgoldinthechestnutofherhair；thedaisy-starredgrass；thedarkbirdswithtranslucentreddewlaps，andcheckeredtailsandthetulipbackground，puceandredandyellow。Whenshehadluredthemtotheopengate，littleGypraisedherself，andsaid:”Aren’tyouduffies，dears？Shoo！”Andonthetailsoftheturkeyssheshutthegate。Thenshewenttowhere，underthewalnut-tree——theonelargetreeofthatwalledgarden——averyoldScotchterrierwaslying，andsittingdownbesidehim，beganstrokinghiswhitemuzzle，saying:”Ossy，Ossy，doyouloveme？”
　　Presently，seeinghermotherintheporch，shejumpedup，andcryingout:”Ossy——Ossy！Walk！”rushedtoGypandembracedherlegs，whiletheoldScotchterrierslowlyfollowed。
　　Thusheldprisoner，Gypwatchedthedog’sapproach。Nearlythreeyearshadchangedheralittle。Herfacewassofter，andrathermoregrave，herformalittlefuller，herhair，ifanything，darker，anddonedifferently——insteadofwavinginwingsandbeingcoiledupbehind，itwassmoothlygatheredroundinasoftandlustroushelmet，bywhichfashiontheshapeofherheadwasbetterrevealed。”Darling，goandaskPettancetoputafreshpieceofsulphurinOssy’swater-bowl，andtocutuphismeatfiner。YoucangiveHotspurandBrownietwolumpsofsugareach；andthenwe’llgoout。”Goingdownonherkneesintheporch，shepartedtheolddog’shair，andexaminedhiseczema，thinking:”Imustrubsomemoreofthatstuffinto-night。Oh，ducky，you’renotsmellingyourbest！Yes；only——notmyface！”
　　Atelegraph-boywascomingfromthegate。GypopenedthemissivewiththefainttremorshealwaysfeltwhenSummerhaywasnotwithher。
　　Detained；shallbedownbylasttrain；neednotcomeupto-morrow——
　　BRYAN。”
　　Whentheboywasgone，shestoopeddownandstrokedtheolddog’shead。”Masterhomealldayto-morrow，Ossy——masterhome！”
　　Avoicefromthepathsaid，”Beautifulevenin’，ma’am。”
　　The”oldscoundrel，”Pettance，stifferintheankle-joints，withmorelinesinhisgargoyle’sface，fewerstumpsinhisgargoyle’smouth，morefilmoverhisdark，burninglittleeyes，wasstandingbeforeher，and，behindhim，littleGyp，onefootratherbeforetheother，asGyphadbeenwonttostand，waitedgravely。”Oh，Pettance，Mr。Summerhaywillbeathomeallto-morrow，andwe’llgoalongride:andwhenyouexercise，willyoucallattheinn，incaseIdon’tgothatway，andtellMajorWintonIexpecthimtodinnerto-night？””Yes，ma’am；andI’veseentheponyforlittleMissGypthismorning，ma’am。It’samousepony，fiveyearold，sound，goodtemper，prettylittlepaces。Isaystotheman:’Don’tyoucomeitoverme，’Isays；’Iwasbornonan’orse。Talkoftwentypounds，forthatpony！Ten，andluckytogetit！’’Well，’hesays，’Pettance，it’snogoodtotalkroundan’roundwithyou。
　　Fifteen！’hesays。’I’llthrowyouonein，’Isays，’Eleven！Takeitorleaveit。’’Ah！’hesays，’Pettance，YOUknow’owtobuyan’orse。Allright，’hesays；’twelve！’She’sworthalloffifteen，ma’am，andthemajor’spassedher。Soifyoulikestohave’er，theresheis！”
　　Gyplookedatherlittledaughter，whohadgivenoneexcitedhop，butnowstoodstill，hereyesflyingupathermotherandherlipsparted；andshethought:”Thedarling！Sheneverbegsforanything！””Verywell，Pettance；buyher。”
　　The”oldscoundrel”touchedhisforelock:”Yes，ma’am——verygood，ma’am。Beautifulevenin’，ma’am。”And，withdrawingathisgaitofonewhosefeetareatpermanentrightanglestothelegs，hemused:’Andthat’llbetwoinmypocket。’
　　TenminuteslaterGyp，littleGyp，andOssianemergedfromthegardengatefortheireveningwalk。Theywent，notasusual，uptothedowns，buttowardtheriver，makingforwhattheycalled”thewild。”Thiswasanoutlyingplotofneglectedgroundbelongingtotheirfarm，twosedgymeadows，hedgedbybanksonwhichgrewoaksandashes。Anoldstonelinhay，coveredtoitsbrokenthatchbyahugeivybush，stoodattheanglewherethemeadowsmet。Thespothadastrangelifetoitselfinthatsmooth，kemptcountrysideofcornfields，grass，andbeech-clumps；itwasfavouredbybeastsandbirds，andlittleGyphadrecentlyseentwobabyharesthere。Fromanoak-tree，wherethecrinkledleaveswerenotyetlargeenoughtohidehim，acuckoowascallingandtheystoppedtolookatthegreybirdtillheflewoff。Thesingingandserenity，thegreenandgoldenoaksandashes，theflowers——marsh-orchis，ladies’smocks，andcuckoo-buds，starringtherushygrass——allbroughttoGypthatfeelingoftheuncapturablespiritwhichliesbehindtheformsofnature，theshadowy，hoveringsmileoflifethatisevervanishingandeverspringingagainoutofdeath。Whiletheystoodthereclosetotheoldlinhayabirdcameflyingroundtheminwidecircles，utteringshrillcries。Ithadalongbeakandlong，pointedwings，andseemeddistressedbytheirpresence。LittleGypsqueezedhermother’shand。”Poorbird！Isn’titapoorbird，mum？””Yes，dear，it’sacurlew——Iwonderwhat’sthematterwithit。
　　Perhapsitsmateishurt。””Whatisitsmate？””Thebirditliveswith。””It’safraidofus。It’snotlikeotherbirds。Isitarealbird，mum？Oroneoutofthesky？””Ithinkit’sreal。Shallwegoonandseeifwecanfindoutwhat’sthematter？””Yes。”
　　Theywentonintothesedgygrassandthecurlewcontinuedtocircle，vanishingandreappearingfrombehindthetrees，alwaysutteringthoseshrillcries。LittleGypsaid:”Mum，couldwespeaktoit？Becausewe’renotgoingtohurtnothing，arewe？””Ofcoursenot，darling！ButI’mafraidthepoorbird’stoowild。
　　Try，ifyoulike。Calltoit:’Courlie！Courlie！”’
　　LittleGyp’spipingjoinedthecurlew’scriesandotherbird-songsinthebrightshadowyquietoftheeveningtillGypsaid:”Oh，look；it’sdippingclosetotheground，overthereinthatcorner——it’sgotanest！Wewon’tgonear，willwe？”
　　LittleGypechoedinahushedvoice:”It’sgotanest。”
　　Theystolebackoutofthegateclosetothelinhay，thecurlewstillfightingandcryingbehindthem。”Aren’twegladthemateisn’thurt，mum？”
　　Gypansweredwithashiver:”Yes，darling，fearfullyglad。Nowthen，shallwegodownandaskGrandytocomeuptodinner？”
　　LittleGyphopped。Andtheywenttowardtheriver。
　　At”TheBowlofCream，”Wintonhadfortwoyearshadrooms，whichheoccupiedasoftenashispursuitspermitted。HehadrefusedtomakehishomewithGyp，desiringtobeonhandonlywhenshewantedhim；andasimplelifeofitheledinthosesimplequarters，ridingwithherwhenSummerhaywasintown，visitingthecottagers，smokingcigars，layingplansforthedefenceofhisdaughter’sposition，anddevotinghimselftothewhimsoflittleGyp。Thismoment，whenhisgrandchildwastobegintoride，wasinamannersacredtooneforwhomlifehadscantmeaningapartfromhorses。
　　Lookingatthem，handinhand，Gypthought:’Dadlovesherasmuchashelovesmenow——more，Ithink。’
　　LonelydinnerattheinnwasaninflictionwhichhestudiouslyconcealedfromGyp，soheacceptedtheirinvitationwithoutalacrity，andtheywalkedonupthehill，withlittleGypinthemiddle，supportedbyahandoneachside。
　　TheRedHousecontainednothingthathadbeeninGyp’smarriedhomeexceptthepiano。Ithadwhitewalls，furnitureofoldoak，andforpicturesreproductionsofherfavourites。”TheDeathofProcris”hunginthedining-room。Wintonneverfailedtoscrutinizeitwhenhecameintoameal——that”deucedrumaffair”
　　appearedtohaveafascinationforhim。Heapprovedofthedining-
　　roomaltogether；itsnarrowoak”lastsupper”tablemadegaybyastripofbluelinen，oldbrickhearth，casementwindowshungwithfloweredcurtains——allhadapleasingausterity，uncannilyredeemedtosoftness。HegotonwellenoughwithSummerhay，butheenjoyedhimselfmuchmorewhenhewastherealonewithhisdaughter。Andthiseveninghewasespeciallygladtohavehertohimself，forshehadseemedoflaterathergraveandabsent-minded。Whendinnerwasoverandtheywereundisturbed，hesaid:”Itmustbeprettydullforyou，mydear，sometimes。Iwishyousawmorepeople。””Ohno，Dad。”
　　Watchinghersmile，hethought:’That’snotsourgrapes”——Whatisthetrouble，then？’”Isupposeyou’venotheardanythingofthatfellowFiorsenlately？””Notaword。Buthe’splayingagaininLondonthisseason，Isee。””Ishe？Ah，that’llcheerthem。”Andhethought:’It’snotthat，then。Butthere’ssomething——I’llswear！’”IhearthatBryan’sgoingahead。Imetamanintownlastweekwhospokeofhimasaboutthemostpromisingjunioratthebar。””Yes；he’sdoingawfullywell。”Andasoundlikeafaintsighcaughthisears。”Wouldyousayhe’schangedmuchsinceyouknewhim，Dad？””Idon’tknow——perhapsalittlelessjokey。””Yes；he’slosthislaugh。”
　　Itwasveryevenlyandsoftlysaid，yetitaffectedWinton。”Can’texpecthimtokeepthat，”heanswered，”turningpeopleinsideout，dayafterday——andmostofthemrotten。ByGeorge，whatalife！”
　　Butwhenhehadlefther，strollingbackinthebrightmoonlight，herevertedtohissuspicionsandwishedhehadsaidmoredirectly:”Lookhere，Gyp，areyouworryingaboutBryan——orhavepeoplebeenmakingthemselvesunpleasant？”
　　Hehad，intheselastthreeyears，becomeunconsciouslyinimicaltohisownclassandtheirimitators，andmorethaneverfriendlytothepoor——visitingthelabourers，smallfarmers，andsmalltradesmen，doingthemlittleturnswhenhecould，givingtheirchildrensixpences，andsoforth。Thefactthattheycouldnotaffordtoputonairsofvirtueescapedhim；heperceivedonlythattheywererespectfulandfriendlytoGypandthiswarmedhishearttowardtheminproportionashegrewexasperatedwiththetwoorthreelandedfamilies，andthatparvenulotintheriversidevillas。
　　Whenhefirstcamedown，thechieflandowner——amanhehadknownforyears——hadinvitedhimtolunch。Hehadacceptedwiththedeliberateintentionoffindingoutwherehewas，andhadtakenthefirstnaturalopportunityofmentioninghisdaughter。Shewas，hesaid，devotedtoherflowers；theRedHousehadquiteagoodgarden。Hisfriend’swife，slightlyliftingherbrows，hadansweredwithanervoussmile:”Oh！yes；ofcourse——yes。”A
　　silencehad，notunnaturally，fallen。Sincethen，Wintonhadsalutedhisfriendandhisfriend’swifewithsuchfrigidpolitenessasfrozetheverymarrowintheirbones。HehadnotgonetherefishingforGyptobecalledon，buttoshowthesepeoplethathisdaughtercouldnotbeslightedwithimpunity。
　　Foolishofhim，for，manoftheworldtohisfingertips，heknewperfectlywellthatawomanlivingwithamantowhomshewasnotmarriedcouldnotberecognizedbypeoplewithanypretensionstoorthodoxy；Gypwasbeyondeventhedebatablegroundonwhichstoodthosewhohavebeendivorcedandaremarriedagain。Butevenamanoftheworldisnotproofagainstthewarpingofdevotion，andWintonwasreadytochargeanywindmillatanymomentonherbehalf。
　　Outsidetheinndoor，exhalingthelastpuffsofhisgood-nightcigarette，hethought:’Whatwouldn’tIgivefortheolddays，andachancetowingsomeofthesemoralupstarts！’
　　II
　　Thelasttrainwasnotduetilleleven-thirty，andhavingseenthattheeveningtrayhadsandwiches，GypwenttoSummerhay’sstudy，theroomatrightanglestothebodyofthehouse，overwhichwastheirbedroom。Here，ifshehadnothingtodo，shealwayscamewhenhewasaway，feelingnearertohim。Shewouldhavebeenhorrifiedifshehadknownofherfather’ssentimentsonherbehalf。Herinstantdenialofthewishtoseemorepeoplehadbeenquitegenuine。Theconditionsofherlife，inthatrespect，oftenseemedtoherideal。Itwassuchajoytobefreeofpeopleonedidnotcaretwostrawsabout，andofallemptysocialfunctions。
　　Everythingshehadnowwasreal——love，andnature，riding，music，animals，andpoorpeople。Whatelsewasworthhaving？Shewouldnothavechangedforanything。Itoftenseemedtoherthatbooksandplaysabouttheunhappinessofwomeninherpositionwereallfalse。Ifoneloved，whatcouldonewantbetter？Suchwomen，ifunhappy，couldhavenopride；orelsecouldnotreallylove！Shehadrecentlybeenreading”AnnaKarenina，”andhadoftensaidtoherself:”There’ssomethingnottrueaboutit——asifTolstoywantedtomakeusbelievethatAnnawassecretlyfeelingremorse。Ifoneloves，onedoesn’tfeelremorse。Evenifmybabyhadbeentakenaway，Ishouldn’thavefeltremorse。Onegivesoneselftolove——oronedoesnot。”
　　Sheevenderivedapositivejoyfromthefeelingthatherloveimposedasortofisolation；shelikedtobeapart——forhim。
　　Besides，byherverybirthshewasoutsidethefoldofsociety，herlovebeyondtheloveofthosewithinit——justasherfather’slovehadbeen。Andherpridewasgreaterthantheirs，too。Howcouldwomenmopeandmoanbecausetheywerecastout，andtrytoscratchtheirwaybackwheretheywerenotwelcome？Howcouldanywomandothat？Sometimes，shewonderedwhether，ifFiorsendied，shewouldmarryherlover。Whatdifferencewoulditmake？Shecouldnotlovehimmore。Itwouldonlymakehimfeel，perhaps，toosureofher，makeitallamatterofcourse。Forherself，shewouldrathergoonasshewas。Butforhim，shewasnotcertain，oflatehadbeenlessandlesscertain。Hewasnotboundnow，couldleaveherwhenhetired！Andyet——didheperhapsfeelhimselfmoreboundthaniftheyweremarried——unfairlybound？Itwasthisthought——
　　barelymorethantheshadowofathought——whichhadgivenher，oflate，theextragravitynoticedbyherfather。
　　Inthatunlightedroomwiththemoonbeamsdriftingin，shesatdownatSummerhay’sbureau，whereheoftenworkedtoolateathiscases，deprivingherofhimself。Shesatthererestingherelbowsonthebarewood，crossingherfinger-tips，gazingoutintothemoonlight，herminddriftingonastreamofmemoriesthatseemedtohavebeginningonlyfromtheyearwhenhecameintoherlife。Asmilecreptoutonherface，andnowandthensheutteredalittlesighofcontentment。
　　Somanymemories，nearlyallhappy！Surely，themostadroitworkofthejewellerwhoputthehumansoultogetherwashisprovisionofitspowertoforgetthedarkandremembersunshine。TheyearandahalfofherlifewithFiorsen，theemptymonthsthatfolloweditweregone，dispersedlikemistbytheradianceofthelastthreeyearsinwhoseskyhadhungjustonecloud，nobiggerthanahand，ofdoubtwhetherSummerhayreallylovedherasmuchasshelovedhim，whetherfromhercompanyhegotasmuchastheallshegotfromhis。Shewouldnothavebeenherdistrustfulselfifshecouldhavesettleddownincomplacentsecurity；andhermindwaseveratstretchonthatpoint，comparingpastdaysandnightswiththedaysandnightsofthepresent。Herprevisionthat，whensheloved，itwouldbedesperately，hadbeenfulfilled。Hehadbecomeherlife。Whenthisbefallsonewhosebesettingstrengthandweaknessalikeispride——nowonderthatshedoubts。
　　FortheirOdysseytheyhadgonetoSpain——thatbrownun-Europeanlandof”lyrio”flowers，andcriesof”Agua！”inthestreets，wherethemenseemclefttothewaistwhentheyareastrideofhorses，undertheirwideblackhats，andtheblack-clothedwomenwithwonderfuleyesstilllookasiftheymissedtheirEasternveils。
　　Ithadbeenamonthofgaietyandglamour，lastdaysofSeptemberandearlydaysofOctober，arevelofenchantedwanderingsinthestreetsofSeville，ofembracesandlaughter，ofstrangescentsandstrangersounds，oforangelightandvelvetyshadows，andallthewarmthanddeepgravityofSpain。TheAlcazar，thecigarette-
　　girls，theGipsydancersofTriana，theoldbrownruinstowhichtheyrode，thestreets，andthesquarewithitsgravetalkerssittingonbenchesinthesun，thewater-sellersandthemelons；
　　themules，andthedarkraggedmanoutofadream，pickinguptheendsofcigarettes，thewineofMalaga，burntfireandhoney！
　　Sevillehadbewitchedthem——theygotnofurther。TheyhadcomebackacrossthebrownuplandsofCastiletoMadridandGoyaandVelasquez，tillitwastimeforParis，beforethelaw-termbegan。
　　There，inaqueerlittleFrenchhotel——allbedrooms，andalift，coffeeandcarvedbeds，woodfires，andachambermaidwhoseemedallFrance，anddownbelowarestaurant，towhichsuchasknewabouteatingcame，withwaiterswholookedlikemonks，bothfatandlean——theyhadspentaweek。ThreespecialmemoriesofthatweekstartedupinthemoonlightbeforeGyp’seyes:ThelongdriveintheBoisamongthefallingleavesoftreesflashingwithcolourinthecrispairunderabrilliantsky。AmomentintheLouvrebeforetheLeonardo”Bacchus，”when——his”restored”pinkskinforgotten——
　　alltheworldseemedtodropawaywhileshelistened，withthelisteningfigurebeforeher，tosomemysteriousmusicofgrowingflowersandsecretlife。Andthatlastmostdisconcertingmemory，ofthenightbeforetheyreturned。Theywerehavingsupperafterthetheatreintheirrestaurant，when，inamirrorshesawthreepeoplecomeinandtakeseatsatatablealittlewaybehind——
　　Fiorsen，Rosek，andDaphneWing！Howshemanagedtoshownosignsheneverknew！Whiletheywereordering，shewassafe，forRosekwasagourmet，andthegirlwouldcertainlybehungry；butafterthat，sheknewthatnothingcouldsaveherbeingseen——Rosekwouldmarkdowneverywomanintheroom！Shouldshepretendtofeelfaintandslipoutintothehotel？OrletBryanknow？Orsittherelaughingandtalking，eatinganddrinking，asifnothingwerebehindher？
　　Herownfaceinthemirrorhadaflush，andhereyeswerebright。
　　Whentheysawher，theywouldseethatshewashappy，safeinherlove。HerfootsoughtSummerhay’sbeneaththetable。Howsplendidandbrownandfithelooked，comparedwiththosetwopale，townycreatures！Andhewasgazingatherasthoughjustdiscoveringherbeauty。Howcouldsheever——thatmanwithhislittlebeardandhiswhitefaceandthoseeyes——howcouldsheever！Ugh！Andthen，inthemirror，shesawRosek’sdark-circledeyesfastenonherandbetraytheirrecognitionbyasuddengleam，sawhislipscompressed，andafaintredcomeupinhischeeks。Whatwouldhedo？Thegirl’sbackwasturned——herperfectback——andshewaseating。AndFiorsenwasstaringstraightbeforehiminthatmoodywaysheknewsowell。Alldependedonthatdeadlylittleman，whohadoncekissedherthroat。AsickfeelingseizedonGyp。Ifherloverknewthatwithinfiveyardsofhimwerethosetwomen！Butshestillsmiledandtalked，andtouchedhisfoot。Rosekhadseenthatshewasconscious——wasgettingfromitakindofsatisfaction。
　　Shesawhimleanoverandwhispertothegirl，andDaphneWingturningtolook，andhermouthopeningforasmothered”Oh！”GypsawhergiveanuneasyglanceatFiorsen，andthenbeginagaintoeat。Surelyshewouldwanttogetawaybeforehesaw。Yes；verysoonsherose。Whatlittleairsoftheworldshehadnow——quitemistressofthesituation！Thewrapmustbeplacedexactlyonhershoulders；andhowshewalked，givingjustonestartledlookbackfromthedoor。Gone！Theordealover！AndGypsaid:”Let’sgoup，darling。”
　　Shefeltasiftheyhadbothescapedadeadlyperil——notfromanythingthosetwocoulddotohimorher，butfromthecruelacheandjealousyofthepast，whichthesightofthatmanwouldhavebroughthim。
　　Women，fortheirage，aresurelyolderthanmen——marriedwomen，atallevents，thanmenwhohavenothadthatexperience。Andallthroughthosefirstweeksoftheirlifetogether，therewasakindofwisewatchfulnessinGyp。Hewasonlyaboyinknowledgeoflifeasshesawit，andthoughhischaracterwassomuchmoredecided，active，andinsistentthanherown，shefeltitlaywithhertoshapethecourseandavoidtheshallowsandsunkenrocks。
　　Thehousetheyhadseentogetherneartheriver，undertheBerkshiredowns，wasstillempty；andwhileitwasbeinggotready，theylivedataLondonhotel。Shehadinsistedthatheshouldtellnooneoftheirlifetogether。Ifthatmustcome，shewantedtobefirmlysettledin，withlittleGypandBettyandthehorses，sothatitshouldallbeforhimasmuchlikerespectablemarriedlifeaspossible。But，oneday，inthefirstweekaftertheirreturn，whileinherroom，justbackfromalongday’sshopping，acardwasbroughtuptoher:”LadySummerhay。”Herfirstimpulsewastobe”notathome”；hersecond，”I’dbetterfaceit。Bryanwouldwishmetoseeher！”Whenthepage-boywasgone，sheturnedtothemirrorandlookedatherselfdoubtfully。Sheseemedtoknowexactlywhatthattallwomanwhomshehadseenontheplatformwouldthinkofher——toosoft，notcapable，notrightforhim！——notevenifshewerelegallyhiswife。Andtouchingherhair，layingadabofscentonhereyebrows，sheturnedandwentdownstairsfluttering，butoutwardlycalmenough。
　　Inthelittlelow-roofedinnerloungeofthatoldhotel，whoseroomswereall”entirelyrenovated，”Gypsawhervisitorstandingatatable，rapidlyturningthepagesofanillustratedmagazine，aspeoplewillwhentheirmindsaresetuponacomingoperation。
　　Andshethought:’Ibelieveshe’smorefrightenedthanIam！’
　　LadySummerhayheldoutaglovedhand。”Howdoyoudo？”shesaid。”Ihopeyou’llforgivemycoming。”
　　Gyptookthehand。”Thankyou。Itwasverygoodofyou。I’msorryBryanisn’tinyet。Willyouhavesometea？””I’vehadtea；butdolet’ssitdown。Howdoyoufindthehotel？””Verynice。”
　　Onavelvetloungethathadsurvivedtherenovation，theysatsidebyside，screwedroundtowardeachother。”Bryan’stoldmewhatapleasanttimeyouhadabroad。He’slookingverywell，Ithink。I’mdevotedtohim，youknow。”
　　Gypansweredsoftly:”Yes，youmustbe。”Andherheartfeltsuddenlyashardasflint。
　　LadySummerhaygaveheraquicklook。”I——Ihopeyouwon’tmindmybeingfrank——I’vebeensoworried。
　　It’sanunhappyposition，isn’tit？”Gypdidnotanswer，andshehurriedon。”Ifthere’sanythingIcandotohelp，Ishouldbesoglad——itmustbehorridforyou。”
　　Gypsaidveryquietly:”Oh！no。I’mperfectlyhappy——couldn’tbehappier。”Andshethought:’Isupposeshedoesn’tbelievethat。’
　　LadySummerhaywaslookingatherfixedly。”Onedoesn’trealizethesethingsatfirst——neitherofyouwill，tillyouseehowdreadfullySocietycancold-shoulder。”
　　Gypmadeanefforttocontrolasmile。”Onecanonlybecold-shoulderedifoneputsoneselfinthewayofit。Ishouldneverwishtoseeorspeaktoanyonewhocouldn’ttakemejustforwhatIam。AndIdon’treallyseewhatdifferenceitwillmaketoBryan；mostmenofhisagehavesomeone，somewhere。”Shefeltmaliciouspleasurewatchinghervisitorjibandfrownatthecynicismofthatsoftspeech；akindofhatredhadcomeonherofthissocietywoman，who——disguiseitasshewould——
　　wasatheartherenemy，whoregardedher，mustregardher，asanenslaver，asadespoilerofherson’sworldlychances，aDelilahdragginghimdown。Shesaidstillmorequietly:”Heneedtellnooneofmyexistence；andyoucanbequitesurethatifeverhefeelshe’shadenoughofme，he’llneverbetroubledbythesightofmeagain。”
　　Andshegotup。LadySummerhayalsorose。”Ihopeyoudon’tthink——Ireallyamonlytooanxiousto——””Ithinkit’sbettertobequitefrank。Youwillneverlikeme，orforgivemeforensnaringBryan。Andsoithadbetterbe，please，asitwouldbeifIwerejusthiscommonmistress。Thatwillbeperfectlyallrightforbothofus。Itwasverygoodofyoutocome，though。Thankyou——andgood-bye。”
　　LadySummerhayliterallyfalteredwithspeechandhand。
　　Withamalicioussmile，Gypwatchedherretirementamongthelittletablesandelaboratelymodernchairstillhertallfigurehaddisappearedbehindacolumn。Thenshesatdownagainonthelounge，pressingherhandstoherburningears。Shehadnevertillthenknownthestrengthofthepride-demonwithinher；atthemoment，itwasalmoststrongerthanherlove。Shewasstillsittingthere，whenthepage-boybroughtheranothercard——herfather’s。Shesprangupsaying:”Yes，here，please。”
　　Wintoncameinallbriskandelatedatsightofherafterthislongabsence；and，throwingherarmsroundhisneck，shehuggedhimtight。Hewasdoublyprecioustoheraftertheencountershehadjustgonethough。WhenhehadgivenhernewsofMildenhamandlittleGyp，helookedathersteadily，andsaid:”Thecoast’llbeclearforyoubothdownthere，andatBuryStreet，wheneveryouliketocome，Gyp。Ishallregardthisasyourrealmarriage。Ishallhavetheservantsinandmakethatplain。”
　　Arowlikefamilyprayers——andDadstandingupverystraight，sayinginhisdryway:”Youwillbesogoodinfutureastoremember——””Ishallbeobligedifyouwill，”andsoon；Betty’sroundfacepoutingatbeingbroughtinwithalltheothers；
　　Markey’ssoft，inscrutable；Mrs。Markey’sdemureandgoggling；themaids’rabbit-faces；oldPettance’scarvedgrinthefilmliftingfromhislittleburningeyes:”Ha！Mr。BrynSummer’ay；heboughtherorse，andsoshe’sgoneto’im！”Andshesaid:”Darling，Idon’tknow！It’sawfullysweetofyou。We’llseelater。”
　　Wintonpattedherhand。”Wemuststandupto’em，youknow，Gyp。
　　Youmustn’tgetyourtaildown。”
　　Gyplaughed。”No，Dad；never！”
　　Thatsamenight，acrossthestripofblacknessbetweentheirbeds，shesaid:”Bryan，promisemesomething！””Itdepends。Iknowyoutoowell。””No；it’squitereasonable，andpossible。Promise！””Allright；ifitis。””IwantyoutoletmetaketheleaseoftheRedHouse——letitbemine，thewholething——letmepayforeverythingthere。””Reasonable！What’sthepoint？””OnlythatIshallhaveaproperhomeofmyown。Ican’texplain，butyourmother’scomingto-daymademefeelImust。””Mychild，howcouldIpossiblyliveonYOUthere？It’sabsurd！””Youcanpayforeverythingelse；London——travelling——clothes，ifyoulike。Wecanmakeitsquareup。It’snotaquestionofmoney，ofcourse。Ionlywanttofeelthatif，atanymoment，youdon’tneedmeanymore，youcansimplystopcoming。””Ithinkthat’sbrutal，Gyp。””No，no；somanywomenlosemen’slovebecausetheyseemtoclaimthingsofthem。Idon’twanttoloseyoursthatway——that’sall。””That’ssilly，darling！””It’snot。Men——andwomen，too——alwaystugatchains。Andwhenthereisnochain——””Wellthen；letmetakethehouse，andyoucangoawaywhenyou’retiredofme。”Hisvoicesoundedsmothered，resentful；shecouldhearhimturningandturning，asifangrywithhispillows。Andshemurmured:”No；Ican’texplain。ButIreallymeanit。””We’rejustbeginninglifetogether，andyoutalkasifyouwanttosplititup。Ithurts，Gyp，andthat’sallaboutit。”
　　Shesaidgently:”Don’tbeangry，dear。””Well！Whydon’tyoutrustmemore？””Ido。OnlyImustmakeassureasIcan。”
　　Thesoundcameagainofhisturningandturning。”Ican’t！”
　　Gypsaidslowly:”Oh！Verywell！”
　　Adeadsilencefollowed，bothlyingquietinthedarkness，tryingtogetthebetterofeachotherbysheerlistening。Anhourperhapspassedbeforehesighed，and，feelinghislipsonhers，sheknewthatshehadwon。
　　III
　　There，inthestudy，themoonlighthadreachedherface；anowlwashootingnotfaraway，andstillmorememoriescame——thehappiestofall，perhaps——offirstdaysinthisoldhousetogether。
　　Summerhaydamagedhimselfouthuntingthatfirstwinter。Thememoryofnursinghimwasstrangelypleasant，nowthatitwastwoyearsold。ForconvalescencetheyhadgonetothePyrenees——
　　ArgelesinMarch，allalmond-blossomandsnowsagainsttheblue——awonderfulfortnight。InLondononthewaybacktheyhadtheirfirstawkwardencounter。Comingoutofatheatreoneevening，Gypheardawoman’svoice，closebehind，say:”Why，it’sBryan！Whatages！”Andhisanswerdefensivelydrawledout:”Halo！Howareyou，Diana？””Oh，awfullyfit。Whereareyou，nowadays？Whydon’tyoucomeandseeus？”
　　Againthedrawl:”Downinthecountry。Iwill，sometime。Good-bye。”
　　Atallwomanorgirl——red-haired，withoneofthosewonderfulwhiteskinsthatgotherewith；andbrown——yes，browneyes；Gypcouldseethoseeyessweepingherupanddownwithasortofburning-livecuriosity。Bryan’shandwasthrustunderherarmatonce。”Comeon，let’swalkandgetacab。”
　　Assoonastheywereclearofthecrowd，shepressedhishandtoherbreast，andsaid:”Didyoumind？””Mind？Ofcoursenot。It’sforyoutomind。””Whowasit？””Asecondcousin。DianaLeyton。””Doyouknowherverywell？””Ohyes——usedto。””Anddoyoulikeherverymuch？””Rather！”
　　Helookedroundintoherface，withlaughterbubblingupbehindhisgravity。Ah，butcouldoneteaseonsuchasubjectastheirlove？
　　Andtothisdaythefigureofthattallgirlwiththeburning-whiteskin，theburning-browneyes，theburning-redhairwasnotquiteapleasantmemorytoGyp。Afterthatnight，theygaveupallattempttohidetheirunion，goingtowhatevertheywished，whethertheywerelikelytomeetpeopleornot。GypfoundthatnothingwassoeasilyignoredasSocietywhentheheartwassetonotherthings。
　　Besides，theywereseldominLondon，andinthecountrydidnotwishtoknowanyone，inanycase。Butsheneverlostthefeelingthatwhatwasidealforhermightnotbeidealforhim。Heoughttogointotheworld，oughttomeetpeople。Itwouldnotdoforhimtobecutofffromsocialpleasuresandduties，andthensomedayfeelthatheowedhisstarvationtoher。TogouptoLondon，too，everydaywastiring，andshepersuadedhimtotakeasetofresidentialchambersintheTemple，andsleeptherethreenightsaweek。Inspiteofallhisentreaties，sheherselfneverwenttothosechambers，stayingalwaysatBuryStreetwhenshecameup。A
　　kindofsuperstitionpreventedher；shewouldnotriskmakinghimfeelthatshewashangingroundhisneck。Besides，shewantedtokeepherselfdesirable——solittleamatterofcoursethathewouldhankerafterherwhenhewasaway。Andsheneveraskedhimwherehewentorwhomhesaw。But，sometimes，shewonderedwhetherhecouldstillbequitefaithfultoherinthought，loveherasheusedto；andjoywouldgodownbehindaheavybankofclouds，till，athisreturn，thesuncameoutagain。Lovesuchashers——
　　passionate，adoring，protective，longingtosacrificeitself，togiveallthatithadtohim，yetsecretlydemandingallhisloveinreturn——forhowcouldaproudwomanloveonewhodidnotloveher？——
　　suchloveasthisisalwayslongingforaunionmorecompletethanitislikelytogetinaworldwhereallthingsmoveandchange。
　　Butagainstthegripofthislovesheneverdreamedoffightingnow。Fromthemomentwhensheknewshemustclingtohimratherthantoherbaby，shehadmadenoreservations；allhereggswereinonebasket，asherfather’shadbeenbeforeher——all！
　　Themoonlightwasshiningfullontheoldbureauandavaseoftulipsstandingthere，givingthoseflowerscolourthatwasnotcolour，andanunnamedlook，asiftheycamefromaworldwhichnohumanenters。ItglintedonabronzebustofoldVoltaire，whichshehadboughthimforaChristmaspresent，sothatthegreatwriterseemedtobesmilingfromthehollowsofhiseyes。Gypturnedthebustalittle，tocatchthelightonitsfarcheek；aletterwasdisclosedbetweenitandtheoak。Shedrewitoutthinking:’Blesshim！Heuseseverythingforpaper-weights’；and，inthestrangelight，itsfirstwordscaughthereyes:”DEARBRYAN，”ButIsay——youAREwastingyourself——”
　　Shelaiditdown，methodicallypushingitbackunderthebust。
　　Perhapshehadputitthereonpurpose！Shegotupandwenttothewindow，tocheckthetemptationtoreadtherestofthatletterandseefromwhomitwas。No！Shedidnotadmitthatshewastempted。
　　Onedidnotreadletters。Thenthefullimportofthosefewwordsstruckintoher:”DearBryan。ButIsay——youAREwastingyourself。”Aletterinachainofcorrespondence，then！Awoman’shand；butnothismother’s，norhissisters’——sheknewtheirwritings。Whohaddaredtosayhewaswastinghimself？Aletterinachainofletters！Anintimatecorrespondent，whosenameshedidnotknow，because——hehadnottoldher！Wastinghimself——onwhat？——onhislifewithherdownhere？Andwashe？Hadsheherselfnotsaidthatverynightthathehadlosthislaugh？Shebegansearchinghermemory。Yes，lastChristmasvacation——thatclear，cold，wonderfulfortnightinFlorence，hehadbeenfulloffun。ItwasMaynow。Wastherenomemorysince——ofhisoldinfectiousgaiety？Shecouldnotthinkofany。”ButIsay——youAREwastingyourself。”Asuddenhatredflaredupinheragainsttheunknownwomanwhohadsaidthatthing——andfever，runningthroughherveins，madeherearsburn。Shelongedtosnatchforthandteartopiecestheletter，withitsguardianshipofwhichthatbustseemedmockingher；andsheturnedawaywiththethought:
　　’I’llgoandmeethim；Ican’twaithere。’
　　Throwingonacloakshewalkedoutintothemoonlitgarden，andwentslowlydownthewhitenedroadtowardthestation。Amagical，dewlessnight！Themoonbeamshadstolenintothebeechclump，frostingthebolesandboughs，castingafineghostlygreyovertheshadow-patternedbeech-mast。Gyptooktheshortcutthroughit。
　　Notaleafmovedinthere，nolivingthingstirred；somightanearthbewhereonlytreesinhabited！Shethought:’I’llbringhimbackthroughhere。’Andshewaitedatthefarcorneroftheclump，wherehemustpass，somelittledistancefromthestation。Shenevergavepeopleunnecessaryfoodforgossip——anyslightingofherirritatedhim，shewascarefultosparehimthat。Thetraincamein；acarwentwhizzingby，acyclist，thenthefirstfoot-
　　passenger，atagreatpace，breakingintoarun。Shesawthatitwashe，and，callingouthisname，ranbackintotheshadowofthetrees。Hestoppeddeadinhistracks，thencamerushingafterher。
　　Thatpursuitdidnotlastlong，and，inhisarms，Gypsaid:”Ifyouaren’ttoohungry，darling，let’sstayherealittle——it’ssowonderful！”
　　Theysatdownonagreatroot，andleaningagainsthim，lookingupatthedarkbranches，shesaid:”Haveyouhadahardday？””Yes；gothungupbyalateconsultation；andoldLeytonaskedmetocomeanddine。”
　　Gypfeltasensationaswhenfeethappenongroundthatgivesalittle。”TheLeytons——that’sEatonSquare，isn’tit？Abigdinner？””No。Onlytheoldpeople，andBertieandDiana。””Diana？That’sthegirlwemetcomingoutofthetheatre，isn’tit？””When？Oh——ah——whatamemory，Gyp！””Yes；it’sgoodforthingsthatinterestme。””Why？Didsheinterestyou？”
　　Gypturnedandlookedintohisface。”Yes。Issheclever？””H’m！Isupposeyoumightcallherso。””Andinlovewithyou？””GreatScott！Why？””Isitveryunlikely？Iam。”
　　Hebegankissingherlipsandhair。And，closinghereyes，Gypthought:’Ifonlythat’snotbecausehedoesn’twanttoanswer！’
　　Then，forsomeminutes，theyweresilentasthemoonlitbeechclump。”Answermetruly，Bryan。Doyounever——never——feelasifyouwerewastingyourselfonme？”
　　Shewascertainofaquiverinhisgrasp；buthisfacewasopenandserene，hisvoiceasusualwhenhewasteasing。”Well，hardlyever！Aren’tyoufunny，dear？””Promisemefaithfullytoletmeknowwhenyou’vehadenoughofme。
　　Promise！””Allright！Butdon’tlookforfulfilmentinthislife。””I’mnotsosure。””Iam。”
　　Gypputupherlips，andtriedtodrownforeverinakissthememoryofthosewords:”ButIsay——youAREwastingyourself。”
　　IV
　　Summerhay，comingdownnextmorning，wentstraighttohisbureau；
　　hismindwasnotatease。”Wastingyourself！”WhathadhedonewiththatletterofDiana’s？HerememberedGyp’scominginjustashefinishedreadingit。Searchingthepigeonholesanddrawers，movingeverythingthatlayabout，hetwitchedthebust——andtheletterlaydisclosed。Hetookitupwithasighofrelief:”DEARBRYAN，”ButIsay——youAREwastingyourself。Why，mydear，ofcourse！
　　’Ilfautsefairevaloir！’Youhaveonlyonefoottoputforward；
　　theotherisplantedinIdon’tknowwhatmysterioushole。Onefootinthegrave——atthirty！Really，Bryan！Pullitout。
　　There’ssuchalotwaitingforyou。It’snogoodyourbeinghoity-
　　toity，andtellingmetomindmybusiness。I’mspeakingforeveryonewhoknowsyou。Weallfeeltheblightontherose。
　　Besides，youalwaysweremyfavouritecousin，eversinceIwasfiveandyouahorridlittlebullyoften；andIsimplyhatetothinkofyougoingslowlydowninsteadofquicklyup。Oh！Iknow’D——ntheworld！’But——areyou？Ishouldhavethoughtitwas’d——ning’you！
　　Enough！Whenareyoucomingtoseeus？I’vereadthatbook。Themanseemstothinkloveisnothingbutpassion，andpassionalwaysfatal。Iwonder！Perhapsyouknow。”Don’tbeangrywithmeforbeingsuchagrandmother。”Aurevoir。”Yourverygoodcousin，”DIANALEYTON。”
　　Hecrammedtheletterintohispocket，andsatthere，appalled。Itmusthavelaintwodaysunderthatbust！HadGypseenit？Helookedatthebronzeface；andthephilosopherlookedbackfromthehollowsofhiseyes，asiftosay:”Whatdoyouknowofthehumanheart，myboy——yourown，yourmistress’s，thatgirl’s，oranyone’s？
　　Aprettydancetheheartwillleadyouyet！Putitinapacket，tieitroundwithstring，sealitup，dropitinadrawer，lockthedrawer！Andto-morrowitwillbeoutandskippingonitswrappings。Ho！Ho！”AndSummerhaythought:’Youoldgoat。Youneverhadone！’Intheroomabove，Gypwouldstillbestandingashehadlefther，puttingthelasttouchtoherhair——amanwouldbeascoundrelwho，eveninthought，could——”Hallo！”theeyesofthebustseemedtosay。”Pity！That’squeer，isn’tit？Whynotpitythatred-hairedgirl，withtheskinsowhitethatitburnsyou，andtheeyessobrownthattheyburnyou——don’tthey？”OldSatan！Gyphadhisheart；nooneintheworldwouldevertakeitfromher！
　　Andinthechairwhereshehadsatlastnightconjuringupmemories，hetoonowconjured。Howhehadlovedher，didloveher！
　　Shewouldalwaysbewhatshewasandhadbeentohim。Andthesage’smouthseemedtotwistbeforehimwiththewords:”Quiteso，mydear！Buttheheart’sveryfunny——very——capacious！”Atinysoundmadehimturn。
　　LittleGypwasstandinginthedoorway。”Hallo！”hesaid。”Hallo，Baryn！”Shecameflyingtohim，andhecaughtherupsothatshestoodonhiskneeswiththesunlightshiningonherfluffedouthair。”Well，Gipsy！Who’sgettingatallgirl？””I’mgoin’toride。””Ho，ho！””Baryn，let’sdoHumpty-Dumpty！””Allright；comeon！”Heroseandcarriedherupstairs。
　　Gypwasstilldoingoneofthosehundredthingswhichoccupywomenforaquarterofanhouraftertheyare”quiteready，”andatlittleGyp’sshoutof，”Humpty！”shesuspendedherneedletowatchthesacredrite。
　　Summerhayhadseatedhimselfonthefoot-railofthebed，roundinghisarms，sinkinghisneck，blowingouthischeekstosimulateanegg；then，withanunexpectednessthatevenlittleGypcouldalwaysseethrough，herolledbackwardontothebed。
　　Andshe，simulating”alltheking’shorses，”triedinvaintoputhimupagain。Thisimmemorialgame，watchedbyGypahundredtimes，hadto-dayaspecialpreciousness。Ifhecouldbesoridiculouslyyoung，whatbecameofherdoubts？Lookingathisfacepulledthiswayandthat，lazilyimperturbableunderthepommelingsofthosesmallfingers，shethought:’AndthatgirldaredtosayhewasWASTINGHIMSELF！’Forinthenightconvictionhadcometoherthatthosewordswerewrittenbythetallgirlwiththewhiteskin，thegirlofthetheatre——theDianaofhislastnight’sdinner。
　　Humpty-Dumptywasuponthebed-railagainforthefinale；alltheking’shorseswereclaspedtohim，makingtheeggmoreround，andovertheybothwentwithshrieksandgurgles。Whataboyhewas！
　　Shewouldnot——no，shewouldnotbroodandspoilherdaywithhim。
　　Butthatafternoon，attheendofalonggalloponthedowns，sheturnedherheadawayandsaidsuddenly:”Issheahuntress？””Who？””Yourcousin——Diana。”
　　Inhislaziestvoice，heanswered:”Isupposeyoumean——doesshehuntme？”
　　Sheknewthattone，thatexpressiononhisface，knewhewasangry；
　　butcouldnotstopherself。”Idid。””Soyou’regoingtobecomejealous，Gyp？”
　　Itwasoneofthosecold，nakedsayingsthatshouldneverbespokenbetweenlovers——oneofthosesayingsatwhichtheheartoftheonewhospeakssinkswithakindofdismay，andtheheartoftheonewhohearsquivers。Shecanteredon。Andhe，perforce，afterher。
　　Whenshereinedinagain，heglancedintoherfaceandwasafraid。
　　Itwasallclosedupagainsthim。Andhesaidsoftly:”Ididn’tmeanthat，Gyp。”
　　Butsheonlyshookherhead。HeHADmeantit——hadwantedtohurther！Itdidn’tmatter——shewouldn’tgivehimthechanceagain。
　　Andshesaid:”Lookatthatlongwhitecloud，andtheapple-greeninthesky——
　　rainto-morrow。Oneoughttoenjoyanyfinedayasifitwerethelast。”
　　Uneasy，ashamed，yetstillalittleangry，Summerhayrodeonbesideher。
　　Thatnight，shecriedinhersleep；and，whenheawakenedher，clungtohimandsobbedout:”Oh！suchadreadfuldream！Ithoughtyou’dleftofflovingme！”
　　Foralongtimeheheldandsoothedher。Never，never！Hewouldneverleaveofflovingher！
　　Butacloudnobroaderthanyourhandcanspreadandcoverthewholeday。
　　V
　　Thesummerpassed，andalwaystherewasthatlittlepatchofsilenceinherheart，andinhis。Thetall，brightdaysgrewtaller，slowlypassedtheirzenith，slowlyshortened。OnSaturdaysandSundays，sometimeswithWintonandlittleGyp，butmoreoftenalone，theywentontheriver。ForGyp，ithadneverlostthemagicoftheirfirstafternoonuponit——neverlostitsglamourasofanenchantedworld。Alltheweekshelookedforwardtothesehoursofisolationwithhim，asifthesurroundingwatersecuredhernotonlyagainstaworldthatwouldtakehimfromher，ifitcould，butagainstthatsideofhisnature，which，solongagoshehadnamed”oldGeorgian。”Shehadonceadventuredtothelawcourtsbyherself，toseehiminhiswigandgown。Underthatstiffgreycrescentonhisbroadforehead，heseemedsohardandclever——soofaworldtowhichshenevercouldbelong，soofapiecewiththebrilliantbullyingofthewholeproceeding。Shehadcomeawayfeelingthatsheonlypossessedandknewonesideofhim。
　　Ontheriver，shehadthatsideutterly——herlovable，lazy，impudentlylovingboy，lyingwithhisheadinherlap，plunginginforaswim，splashingroundher；orwithhissleevesrolledup，hisneckbare，andasmileonhisface，plyinghisslowscullsdown-
　　stream，singing，”Away，myrollingriver，”orpuffinghomelikeademoninwantofhisdinner。Itwassuchablessingtoloseforafewhourseachweekthisgrowingconsciousnessthatshecouldneverhavethewholeofhim。Butallthetimethepatchofsilencegrew，fordoubtintheheartofoneloverreactsontheheartoftheother。
　　Whenthelongvacationcame，shemadeanheroicresolve。HemustgotoScotland，musthaveamonthawayfromher，agoodlongrest。
　　AndwhileBettywasattheseawithlittleGyp，shewouldtakeherfathertohiscure。Sheheldsoinflexiblytothisresolve，that，aftermanyprotests，hesaidwithashrug:”Verywell，Iwillthen——ifyou’resokeentogetridofme。””Keentogetrid！”Whenshecouldnotbeartobeawayfromhim！
　　Butsheforcedherfeelingback，andsaid，smiling:”Atlast！There’sagoodboy！”Anything！Ifonlyitwouldbringhimbacktoherexactlyashehadbeen。Sheaskednoquestionsastowhere，ortowhom，hewouldgo。
　　TunbridgeWells，thatcharmingpurgatorywheretheretiredpreparetheirsoulsforamorepermanentretirement，wasdreamingonitshillsinlongrowsofadequatevillas。Itscommonsandwoodshadremainedunscorched，sothattheretiredhadnottoanyextentdesertedit，thatAugust，forthesea。TheystillshoppedinthePantiles，strolledtheuplands，orflourishedtheirgolf-clubsinthegrassyparks；theystilldrankteaineachother’shousesandfrequentedthemanychurches。Onecouldseetheirfaces，asitwere，goldenedbytheircomingglory，likethechinsofchildrenbyreflectionfrombuttercups。Fromeverykindoflifetheyhadretired，and，waitingnowforamoreperfectday，weredoingtheirutmosttopostponeit。Theylivedverylong。
　　Gypandherfatherhadroomsinahotelwherehecouldbatheanddrinkthewaterswithouthavingtoclimbthreehills。Thiswasthefirstcureshehadattendedsincethelong-pasttimeatWiesbaden。
　　Wasitpossiblethatwasonlysixyearsago？Shefeltsoutterly，sostrangelydifferent！Thenlifehadbeensparklingsipsofeverydrink，andofnonetoomuch；nowitwasonelongstilldraft，toquenchathirstthatwouldnotbequenched。
　　Duringtheseweekssheheldherselfabsolutelyatherfather’sdisposal，butshelivedforthepost，andif，byanychance，shedidnotgetherdailyletter，herheartsanktothedepths。Shewroteeveryday，sometimestwice，thentoreupthatsecondletter，rememberingforwhatreasonshehadsetherselftoundergothisseparation。Duringthefirstweek，hislettershadacertainequanimity；inthesecondweektheybecameardent；inthethird，theywerefitful——nowbeginningtolookforward，nowmoodyanddejected；andtheywereshorter。DuringthisthirdweekAuntRosamundjoinedthem。ThegoodladyhadbecomeastaunchsupporterofGyp’snewexistence，which，inherview，servedFiorsenright。
　　Whyshouldthepoorchild’slifebeloveless？Shehadadefinitelylowopinionofmen，andalowerofthestateofthemarriage-laws；
　　inherview，anywomanwhostruckablowinthatdirectionwassomethingofaheroine。AndshewasobliviousofthefactthatGypwasquiteguiltlessofthedesiretostrikeablowagainstthemarriage-laws，oranythingelse。AuntRosamund’saristocraticandrebelliousbloodboiledwithhatredofwhatshecalledthe”stuffypeople”whostillheldthatwomenweremen’sproperty。Ithadmadeherspeciallycarefulnevertoputherselfinthatposition。
　　ShehadbroughtGypapieceofnews。”IwaswalkingdownBondStreetpastthattea-and-tartshop，mydear——youknow，wheretheyhavethosespecialcoffee-creams，andwhoshouldcomeoutofitbutMissDaphneWingandourfriendFiorsen；andprettyhangdoghelooked。Hecameuptome，withhislittleladywatchinghimlikealynx。Really，mydear，Iwasrathersorryforhim；he’dgotthathungrylookofhis；she’dbeendoingalltheeating，I’msure。Heaskedmehowyouwere。Itoldhim，’Verywell。’”’Whenyouseeher，’hesaid，’tellherIhaven’tforgottenher，andnevershall。Butshewasquiteright；thisisthesortofladythatI’mfitfor。’Andthewayhelookedatthatgirlmademefeelquiteuncomfortable。Thenhegavemeoneofhislittlebows；andofftheywent，sheaspleasedasPunch。Ireallywassorryforhim。”
　　Gypsaidquietly:”Ah！youneedn’thavebeen，Auntie；he’llalwaysbeabletobesorryforhimself。”
　　Alittleshockedatherniece’scynicism，AuntRosamundwassilent。
　　ThepoorladyhadnotlivedwithFiorsen！
　　Thatsameafternoon，Gypwassittinginashelteronthecommon，abookonherknee——thinkingheronelongthought:’To-dayisThursday——Mondayweek！Elevendays——still！’——whenthreefigurescameslowlytowardher，aman，awoman，andwhatshouldhavebeenadog。Englishloveofbeautyandtherightsofmanhadforceditsnoseback，depriveditofhalfitsears，andallbutthreeinchesorsooftail。Ithadasthma——andwaddledindisillusionment。A
　　voicesaid:”This’lldo，Maria。Wecantakethesun’ere。”
　　Butforthatvoice，withthepermanentcoldhoarsenesscaughtbesideinnumerablegraves，GypmightnothaverecognizedMr。Wagge，forhehadtakenoffhisbeard，leavingnothingbutside-whiskers，andMrs。Waggehadfilledoutwonderfully。Theyweresometimesettlingdownbesideher。”Yousithere，Maria；youwon’tgetthesuninyoureyes。””No，Robert；I’llsithere。Yousitthere。””No，YOUsitthere。””No，Iwill。Come，Duckie！”
　　Butthedog，standingstockilyonthepathwaywasgazingatGyp，whilewhatwasleftofitsbroadnosemovedfromsidetoside。Mr。
　　Waggefollowedthedirectionofitsglance。”Oh！”hesaid，”oh，thisisasurprise！”Andfumblingathisstrawhat，hepassedhisotherhandoverhissleeveandhelditouttoGyp。Itfeltalmostdry，andfatterthanithadbeen。Whileshewasshakingit，thedogmovedforwardandsatdownonherfeet。
　　Mrs。Waggealsoextendedherhand，cladinashinyglove。”Thisisa——a——pleasure，”shemurmured。”WhoWOULDhavethoughtofmeetingyou！Oh，don’tletDuckiesitagainstyourprettyfrock！
　　Come，Duckie！”
　　ButDuckiedidnotmove，restinghisbackagainstGyp’sshin-bones。
　　Mr。Wagge，whosetonguehadbeenpassingoveramouthwhichshesawtoitsfulladvantageforthefirsttime，saidabruptly:”You’aven’tcometolivehere，’aveyou？””Ohno！I’monlywithmyfatherforthebaths。””Ah，Ithoughtnot，neverhavin’seenyou。We’vebeenretiredhereourselvesamatteroftwelvemonths。Aprettyspot。””Yes；lovely，isn’tit？””Wewantednature。Theairsuitsus，thoughabit——er——tooirony，asyoumightsay。Butit’salong-livedplace。Wewerequiteatimelookin’round。”
　　Mrs。Waggeaddedinherthinvoice:”Yes——we’dthoughtofWimbledon，yousee，butMr。Waggelikedthisbetter；hecangethiswalk，here；andit’smore——select，perhaps。
　　Wehaveseveralfriends。Thechurchisverynice。”
　　Mr。Wagge’sfaceassumedanuncertainexpression。Hesaidbluffly:”Iwasalwaysachapelman；but——Idon’tknowhowitis——there’ssomethinginaplacelikethisthatmakeschurchseemmore——moresuitable；mywifealwayshadaleaningthatway。Ineverconcealmyactions。”
　　Gypmurmured:”It’saquestionofatmosphere，isn’tit？”
　　Mr。Waggeshookhishead。”No；Idon’tholdwithincense——we’renot’IghChurch。ButhowareYOU，ma’am？Weoftenspeakofyou。You’relookingwell。”
　　Hisfacehadbecomeaduskyorange，andMrs。Wagge’sthecolourofadoubtfulbeetroot。ThedogonGyp’sfeetstirred，snuffled，turnedround，andfellheavilyagainstherlegsagain。Shesaidquietly:”IwashearingofDaisyonlyto-day。She’squiteastarnow，isn’tshe？”
　　Mrs。Waggesighed。Mr。Waggelookedawayandanswered:”It’sasoresubject。Theresheis，makingherfortyandfiftypoundaweek，andrunafterinallthepapers。She’sasuccess——nodoubtaboutit。Andsheworks。Savingamatteroffifteen’undredayear，Ishouldn’tbesurprised。Why，atmybest，theyearstheinfluenzawassobad，Ineverclearedathousandnet。No，she’sasuccess。”
　　Mrs。Waggeadded:”Haveyouseenherlastphotograph——theonewhereshe’sstandingbetweentwohydrangea-tubs？Itwasherownidea。”
　　Mr。Waggemumbledsuddenly:”I’malwaysgladtoseeherwhenshetakesarundowninacar。
　　ButI’vecomehereforquietafterthelifeI’veled，andIdon’twanttothinkaboutit，especiallybeforeyou，ma’am。Idon’t——
　　that’safact。”