would not look at him.

"Well," she said, "what happened?"

"Oh, it was all right," he said. "I think it was all right. I'm
almost sure of it. I always thought of you, you see. Imagined what
you'd think of me." He didn't say that he had considered what his
mother would think. She was suddenly, jealously, thankful.

With his return she regained her content, feeling no longer the weight
of winter. He spoke no more regretfully of his exclusion from the
sports of the other pupils and they settled down once again into their
happy routine of walks and drives. In a little while the crocuses
burst into flame in the borders, and in the hedges the wild arums began
to unfold.

One Friday afternoon in the middle of March she asked Considine to let
Arthur drive her into Dartmouth. The day was so mild that they chose
the high-road that skirts the edge of Start Bay. There was a feeling
of holiday in the air, for the sea beneath them was of a pale and
shimmering blue like a stone blazing with imprisoned light or a
butterfly's wing. On the road they met a long procession of carriers'
vans heaped high with shopping baskets, and the happy faces of country
people stared at them from under the hoods. The road shone white,
having been scoured with rain, and all the hedgerows smelt of green
things growing, with now and then a waft of the white violet. The sky
was so clear that they could see the smoke of many liners, hull down,
making the Start. When they reached the crest of the hill above
Dartmouth a man-of-war appeared, a three-funnelled cruiser, steaming
fast towards the land. She was so fleet and strong that she seemed to
share in the exhilaration of the day. They dropped down slowly into
Dartmouth and lost sight of her.

Gabrielle had a great deal of shopping to do, and Arthur drove her from
one shop to another, waiting outside in the pony-trap while she made
her purchases. Then they had tea together in a restaurant on the quay.
They had never been more happy together. When they came out of the
tea-shop on to the pavement they found themselves entangled in a group
of sailors, liberty-men who had been disembarked from the cruiser that
now lay anchored in the mouth of the Dart. They came along the
footpath laughing, pleased to be ashore. Arthur and Gabrielle stood
aside to let them pass, and as they did so Gabrielle saw the name
_H.M.S. Pennant_ upon their cap-ribbons. She became suddenly pale and
silent. The