, when we are old, and wear
transformations, we'll meet again, at the dying of the year, and sit
round the Yule log, and tell the stories of our lives. And if we have
failed, we will weep salt tears of disappointment; and if we have
succeeded, we'll weep more, because it's all hollow and stuffed with
bran, and we'll make pious reflections, and sigh: `Oh, me! Oh, my!' and
preach sermons to the youngsters, and they won't believe a word. And so
it will all begin over again. Juliet, you set the ball rolling, by
speaking of ruts. You ought to be the first to confess. What is the
secret longing of your heart?"

The dark girl showed no sign of embarrassment at being chosen to lead
the way. There was no sign of shrinking or hesitation upon her face; on
the contrary, at the sound of that penetrating question, the careless
smile died away, and her features seemed suddenly to glow with life.

"_Adventure_!" she cried quickly. "Give me that, and, for good or ill,
I shall be satisfied. Fate made me with a vagrant's heart shut up in a
woman's body, and for twenty-four years it's been fed on monotony in a
country parish. Since I left the schoolroom I've never had a real
experience of my own. I've had trivial pleasures, never one real big
joy; never"--she looked slowly, thoughtfully, from face to face--"_never
a grief_! There's something here"--she laid her hand on her
heart--"fighting to get out! The ordinary, quiet, comfortable life
would not content it. It wants more. It wants happenings, changes,
excitement--it wants the big world, and I am a prisoner in the castle of
convention. Mrs Ingram, how does your prophecy apply to me? How am I
to get out?"

"No prison is so strong that it cannot be pulled down, Juliet. The
walls of Jericho fell at the sound of the trumpet. But you must
discover your own trumpet, and the walls won't fall at the first
flourish," said Mrs Ingram, and then suddenly and incontinently she
added: "Poor child!"

"Just so! Miss Juliet will certainly be one of those who will sigh:
`Woe's me!' at our future merry meeting," cried the tall man with the
hawklike features, "and it's rough on her, too, for she's so touchingly
modest in her desire. Doesn't care a pin apparently whether she comes
out better or worse! Now, for my own part, that's all I do care for.
Success! Success! that's my mania: forging ahead, gaining on my
opponents, winning the lead. Adventure doesn't count. I'd sit at an