irl with the lady-apple cheeks; at any rate,
after the lapse of another week a new spectacle presented itself; her
redness deepened whenever Christopher passed her by, and embarrassment
pervaded her from the lowest stitch to the tip of her feather. She had
little chance of escaping him by diverging from the road, for a figure
could be seen across the open ground to the distance of half a mile on
either side. One day as he drew near as usual, she met him as women meet
a cloud of dust--she turned and looked backwards till he had passed.

This would have been disconcerting but for one reason: Christopher was
ceasing to notice her. He was a man who often, when walking abroad, and
looking as it were at the scene before his eyes, discerned successes and
failures, friends and relations, episodes of childhood, wedding feasts
and funerals, the landscape suffering greatly by these visions, until it
became no more than the patterned wall-tints about the paintings in a
gallery; something necessary to the tone, yet not regarded. Nothing but
a special concentration of himself on externals could interrupt this
habit, and now that her appearance along the way had changed from a
chance to a custom he began to lapse again into the old trick. He gazed
once or twice at her form without seeing it: he did not notice that she
trembled.

He sometimes read as he walked, and book in hand he frequently approached
her now. This went on till six weeks had passed from the time of their
first encounter. Latterly might have been once or twice heard, when he
had moved out of earshot, a sound like a small gasping sigh; but no
arrangements were disturbed, and Christopher continued to keep down his
eyes as persistently as a saint in a church window.

The last day of his engagement had arrived, and with it the last of his
walks that way. On his final return he carried in his hand a bunch of
flowers which had been presented to him at the country-house where his
lessons were given. He was taking them home to his sister Faith, who
prized the lingering blossoms of the seeding season. Soon appeared as
usual his fellow-traveller; whereupon Christopher looked down upon his
nosegay. 'Sweet simple girl,' he thought, 'I'll endeavour to make peace
with her by means of these flowers before we part for good.'

When she came up he held them out to her and said, 'Will you allow me to
present you with these?'

The bright colours of the nosegay instantly att