t ... why couldn't he have had Joanna, instead
of what he'd got, which was nothing? For the first time in his life
Arthur Alce came near to questioning the ways of Providence. Reckon it
was the last thing he would ever do for her--this going away. He wasn't
likely to come back, though he did talk of it, just to keep up their
spirits. He would probably settle down in the shires--go into
partnership with his brother--run a bigger place than Donkey Street,
than Ansdore even.

"Well, I must be going now. There's still a great lot of things to be
tidied up."

He rose, awkwardly setting down his cup. Joanna rose too. The sunset,
rusty with the evening sea-mist, poured over her goodly form as she
stood against the window, making its outlines dim and fiery and her hair
like a burning crown.

"I shall miss you, Arthur."

He did not speak, and she held out her hand.

"Good-bye."

He could not say it--instead he pulled her towards him by the hand he
held.

"Jo--I must."

"Arthur--no!"

But it was too late--he had kissed her.

"That's the first time you done it," she said reproachfully.

"Because it's the last. You aren't angry, are you?"

"I?--no. But, Arthur, you mustn't forget you're married to Ellen."

"Am I like to forget it?--And seeing all the dunnamany kisses she's
given to another man, reckon she won't grudge me this one poor kiss I've
given the woman I've loved without clasp or kiss for fifteen years."

For the first time she heard in his voice both bitterness and passion,
and at that moment the man himself seemed curiously to come alive and to
compel.... But Joanna was not going to dally with temptation in the
unaccustomed shape of Arthur Alce. She pushed open the door.

"Have they brought round Ranger?--Hi! Peter Crouch!--Yes, there he is.
You'll have a good ride home, Arthur."

"But there'll be rain to-morrow."

"I don't think it. The sky's all red at the rims."

"The wind's shifted."

Joanna moistened her finger and held it up--

"So it has. But the glass is high. Reckon it'll hold off till you're in
the shires, and then our weather won't trouble you."

She watched him ride off, standing in the doorway till the loops of the
Brodnyx road carried him into the rusty fog that was coming from the
sea.

_PART IV_

LAST LOVE

Sec.1

Time passed on, healing the wounds of the Marsh. At Donkey Street, the
neighbours were beginning to get used to young Honisett and his bride,
a