hilst he played and
rambled with his brother the framework of their life was crumbling about
them. Belwick was already throwing a shadow upon Wanley. And now behold!
he stood at the old gate, rested his hands where they had been wont
to rest, turned his eyes in the familiar direction; no longer a mere
shadow, there was Belwick itself.

His heart was hot with outraged affection, with injured pride. On the
scarcely closed grave of that passion which had flamed through so brief
a life sprang up the flower of natural tenderness, infinitely sweet and
precious. For the first time he was fully conscious of what it meant to
quit Wanley for ever; the past revealed itself to him, lovelier and more
loved because parted from him by so hopeless a gulf. Hubert was not old
enough to rate experience at its true value, to acquiesce in the law
which wills that the day must perish before we can enjoy to the full its
light and odour. He could only feel his loss, and rebel against the fate
which had ordained it.

He had climbed but half-way up the hill; from this point onwards there
was no view till the summit was reached, for the lane proceeded between
high banks and hedges. To gain the very highest point he had presently
to quit the road by a stile and skirt the edge of a small rising meadow,
at the top of which was an old cow-house with a few trees growing about
it. Thence one had the finest prospect in the county.

He reached the stone shed, looked back for a moment over Wanley, then
walked round to the other side. As he turned the corner of the building
his eye was startled by the unexpected gleam of a white dress. A girl
stood there; she was viewing the landscape through a field-glass, and
thus remained unaware of his approach on the grass. He stayed his step
and observed her with eyes of recognition. Her attitude, both hands
raised to hold the glass, displayed to perfection the virginal outline
of her white-robed form. She wore a straw hat of the plain masculine
fashion; her brown hair was plaited in a great circle behind her head,
not one tendril loosed from the mass; a white collar closely circled her
neck; her waist was bound with a red girdle. All was grace and purity;
the very folds towards the bottom of her dress hung in sculpturesque
smoothness; the form of her half-seen foot bowed the herbage with
lightest pressure. From the boughs above there fell upon her a dancing
network of shadow.

Hubert only half smiled; he stood w