She did not mind solitude, nor was she altogether unhappy, but she was
too young not to feel now and then the deep stirrings of her youth. And
she had lived so little in all her twenty-five years of life. Yet with
that habit of self-control which had grown up with her, and which made
many think her cold, she would not suffer her thoughts to dwell upon past
or future. Her world was very small, and, as she had once told Nap, she
contented herself with "the work that was nearest". If it did not greatly
warm her heart, it kept her from brooding over trouble.

On the morning of the day fixed for the theatricals he came over in the
motor to fetch her. It was a glorious day of summer, and Anne was in the
garden. He joined her there, and they walked for awhile in the green
solitudes, talking of the coming entertainment.

They came in their wanderings to the seat under the lilac trees. She
wondered afterwards if he had purposely directed their steps thither.
They had not been together there since that night when the lilac had been
in bloom, that night of perfect spring, the night when their compact had
been made and sealed. Did he think of it, she wondered as they passed. If
so, he made no sign, but talked on in casual strain as if she were no
more than the most casual of friends. Very faithfully he had kept his
part of the compact, so faithfully that when they were past she was
conscious of a sense of chill mingling with her relief. He had stifled
his passion for her, it seemed, and perhaps it was only by comparison
that his friendship felt so cold and measured.

She was glad when they reached Baronmead at length. It was like going
into sudden sunshine to enter Lucas's presence and feel the warmth of his
welcome about her heart. She stayed long talking with him. Here was a
friend indeed, a friend to trust, a friend to confide in, a friend to
love. He might be "everybody's own and particular pal," as Nap had said,
but she knew intuitively that this friend of hers kept a corner for her
that was exclusively her own, a safe refuge in which she had found
shelter for the first time on that night that seemed so long ago when he
had held her in his arms and comforted her as though he had been a woman,
and which she knew had been open to her ever since.

There was a final rehearsal in the afternoon which went remarkably
smoothly. Anne's part was not a lengthy one, and as soon as it was over
she went back to the house in search of M