BOUNDS

Leonard came towards Normanstand next forenoon in considerable mental
disturbance. In the first place he was seriously in love with Stephen,
and love is in itself a disturbing influence.

Leonard's love was all of the flesh; and as such had power at present to
disturb him, as it would later have power to torture him. Again, he was
disturbed by the fear of losing Stephen, or rather of not being able to
gain her. At first, ever since she had left him on the path from the
hilltop till his interview the next day, he had looked on her possession
as an 'option,' to the acceptance of which circumstances seemed to be
compelling him. But ever since, that asset seemed to have been
dwindling; and now he was almost beginning to despair. He was altogether
cold at heart, and yet highly strung with apprehension, as he was shown
into the blue drawing-room.

Stephen came in alone, closing the door behind her. She shook hands with
him, and sat down by a writing-table near the window, pointing to him to
sit on an ottoman a little distance away. The moment he sat down he
realised that he was at a disadvantage; he was not close to her, and he
could not get closer without manifesting his intention of so doing. He
wanted to be closer, both for the purpose of his suit and for his own
pleasure; the proximity of Stephen began to multiply his love for her. He
thought that to-day she looked better than ever, of a warm radiant beauty
which touched his senses with unattainable desire. She could not but
notice the passion in his eyes, and instinctively her eyes wandered to a
silver gong placed on the table well within reach. The more he glowed,
the more icily calm she sat, till the silence between them began to grow
oppressive. She waited, determined that he should be the first to speak.
Recognising the helplessness of silence, he began huskily:

'I came here to-day in the hope that you would listen to me.' Her
answer, given with a conventional smile, was not helpful:

'I am listening.'

'I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I did not accept your offer. If I
had know when I was coming that day that you loved me . . . ' She
interrupted him, calm of voice, and with uplifted hand:

'I never said so, did I? Surely I could not have said such a thing! I
certainly don't remember it?' Leonard was puzzled.

'You certainly made me think so. You asked me to marry you, didn't you?'
Her answer came calmly, though in a low voi