not object to the process of cramming that he now underwent
at Considine's hands. His newly-awakened thirst for knowledge was not
easily quenched. Considine, taking his education as a serious
proposition for the first time, naturally considered that the many
hours that Arthur spent with Gabrielle were waste. He also felt that
since he was now acceptable to them as a sportsman, Arthur should take
his place again with the other boys. He had not calculated the effect
of his decision on Gabrielle or on Arthur himself. That it could have
any effect at all upon her had never entered his mind.

Gabrielle painfully decided that she would say nothing, but Arthur
found himself torn between two interests. Even during the growth of
his devotion to Gabrielle he had always felt a sneaking suspicion that
his constant enjoyment of her society was a little derogatory to his
manly dignity. He knew that his big limbs were made for more active
pursuits than walking over a hillside at a woman's pace, or driving a
pony-cart into Dartmouth. At the same time he saw that he could not
now desert her without a feeling of shame in addition to that of love.

"What shall I do about it?" he said to her.

"You must do what you think right." The sentence would have had no
meaning less than six months before.

"It isn't that exactly, I suppose I must do what Dr. Considine orders."

"Very well.... You must do what he orders."

"I shall never see you, Mrs. Considine!" She was still Mrs. Considine
to him. For answer she only took his hand and smiled.

From that time he followed obediently his master's plans. Considine
kept him busy, and the walks and drives that he had taken with
Gabrielle almost ceased. At first, making a deliberate sacrifice, she
had wondered if she would lose him; but she need never have feared
this. The moments in which they met were stolen and therefore sweet.
She still remained the confidante of all his emotions and thoughts, and
since the time in which these confidences could be given to her was now
so short, each moment of it burned with a new intensity. They met by
calculated chances and in strange places; and their meetings were
lovers' meetings, even if they never spoke of love.

If the holidays at Christmas had been a desolation to Gabrielle, her
parting from Arthur next Easter was clouded by a sense of more positive
want. It was the season of lovers, days of bright sunshine, evenings
of a surpassing te