tick; with a sigh the April wind stole through the
thickets of gorse and out over the down. And always more and more
dauntlessly the larks flung before them their fountainous notes to
pierce those blue spaces that burned between the clouds. No more was
said of the past that morning, and with April come they were happy
sitting up there, although, as Guy said, such weather could hardly be
expected to last. And since this walk was a great exception to the rule
of their life, they were back at the Rectory very punctually, so that
by propitiating everybody with good behavior they might soon demand
another exception.

That night there recurred to Pauline, when she was in her room, a sudden
memory of what Guy had said to her about girls with whom he had had
love-affairs; and with the stark forms of shadows they made a procession
across her walls in the candle-light. She wished now she had let Guy
tell her more, so that she could give distinguishing lineaments of
humanity to each of these maddening figures. What were they like and
why, taken unaware, was she set on fire with rage to know them? For a
long while Pauline tossed sleeplessly on that bed to which usually
morning came so soon; and even when the candle was put out she seemed to
feel these forms of Guy's confession all about her. To-morrow she must
see him again; she could no longer bear to think of him alone. These
shapes that from his past vaguely jeered at her were to him endowed,
each, with what memories? Oh, she could cry out with exasperation even
in this silent house where she had lived so long unvexed!

"What is happening to me? What is happening to me?" asked Pauline, as
the darkness drew nearer to her. "Why doesn't Margaret come?"

She jumped out of bed and ran trembling to her sister's room.

"Pauline, what is it?" asked Margaret, starting up.

"I'm frightened, Margaret. I'm frightened. My room seemed full of
people."

"You goose. What people?"

"Oh, Margaret, I do love you."

She kissed her sister passionately; and Margaret, who was usually so
lazy, got out of bed and came back with her to her room, where she read
aloud _Alice in Wonderland_, sitting by the bed with her dark hair
fallen about her slim shoulders.

In the morning the impression of the night's alarm remained sharply
enough with Pauline to make her anxious to see Guy, without waiting for
the ordained interval to which they should submit; and all that day,
when he did not come, for the