than man or anything he
had made. Its freshness seemed to get beneath her skin, into her mind,
to clean every part of her. Its action had a swiftness that prevented
thought, and she was content to sit there till the doctor came, though
the nurse had gone to bed in Christopher, and Mildred Caniper was
alone. If she could see through those closed lids, she would not mind:
she must know how terrible it was to sit and watch her immobility.

The postman came before the doctor and brought a letter with a foreign
stamp, and for a long time she held the envelope unopened between her
palms. Her body felt like a great heart beating, and she was afraid to
read what Zebedee had written, but at last she split the envelope and
spread the sheets, and forgot George Halkett in the scullery and Mildred
Caniper in bed: she did not hear the calling of the peewits or the
melancholy of the sheep; she heard Zebedee's voice, clear-cut and quick,
saying perfect things in ordinary tones. He told her of the sea that
sometimes seemed to change into the moor, and of the sails that swelled
into the big clouds they knew; he told her that though there was never
any one who could claim likeness to her, it did not matter because she
never left him, and that, in spite of her continuing presence, and
because he was well again, he thought he would come home by land to
reach her sooner.

She spoke aloud, but her forehead was on the letter on her knee.

"No, don't, Zebedee--darling--dearest--lover. Don't come any sooner. I
don't want you to have more days of knowing than you need."

CHAPTER XXIX

The days of that week were marked by little changes for the better in
Mildred Caniper's condition, by little scenes with George. Helen never
went on to the moor without finding him in wait for her, and always she
went as to some unworthy tryst, despising herself for the appeasement
she meted out to him, daring to do nothing else. Once more, she saw him
as some animal that might be soothed with petting, but, thwarted, would
turn fierce and do as he would with her. Her dignity and friendship kept
him off; he did not know how to pass the barrier, and to lock material
doors against him would have been to tempt him to force the house. She
knew that in this matter cowardice was safety, but as the days crept
forward, she wondered how long the weapon would serve her.

Rupert came on Saturday and brought sanity into a disordered world, and
when he entered the