ts so impossible to recapture, or he would not have come to himself
with so acute a consciousness of her former actuality here at the corner
of Trelawney Road. It was almost as uncanny as the poem of Ulalume, and
Michael found himself murmuring, "Of my most immemorial year," half
expectant of Lily's slim form swaying toward him, half blushful already
in breathless anticipation of the meeting.

Down the road a door opened. Michael's heart jumped annoyingly out of
control. It was indeed her door, and whoever was coming out hesitated in
the hall. Michael went forward impulsively, but the door slammed, and a
man with a pencil behind his ear ran hurriedly down the steps. Michael
saw that the windows of the house were covered with the names of
house-agents, that several "to let" boards leaned confidentially over
the railings to accost passers-by. Michael caught up the man, who was
whistling off in the opposite direction, and asked him if he knew where
Mrs. Haden had gone.

"I wish I did," said the man, sucking his teeth importantly. "No, sir,
I'm afraid I don't. Nor anybody else."

"You mean they went away in a hurry," said Michael shamefaced.

"Yes, sir."

"And left no address?"

"Left nothing but a heap of tradesmen's bills in the hall."

Michael turned aside, sorry for the ignominious end of the Hadens, but
glad somehow that the momentary temptation to renew his friendship with
the family, perhaps even his love for Lily, was so irremediably
defeated.

In the sunset that night, as he and Stella sat in the drawing-room
staring over the incarnadined river, Michael told his sister of his
discovery.

"I'm glad you're not going to start that business again," she said.
"And, Michael, do try not to fall in love for a bit, because I shall
soon have such a terrible heap of difficulties that you must solve for
me disinterestedly and without prejudice."

"What sort of difficulties?" Michael demanded, with eyes fixed upon her
cheeks warm with the evening light.

"Oh, I don't know," she half whispered. "But let's go away together in
the summer and not even take a piano."

CHAPTER V

YOUTH'S DOMINATION

On May Morning, when the choir boys of St. Mary's hymned the rising sun,
Michael was able for the first time to behold the visible expression of
his own mental image of Oxford's completeness, to pierce in one dazzling
moment of realization the cloudy and elusive concepts which had
restlessly gathered and resolve