p of sea was a deep blue now, with
crests of foam; the island coast opposite was a shadowy streak stretched
across the feet of the sun. Oh, it was beautiful to stand at that open
window in the freshness, listening to the robin on the bare lilac bush a
few yards away, to the quarrelling of the impudent sparrows on the path
below, to the wind in the branches of the trees, to all the happy
morning sounds of nature. A joyous feeling took possession of her heart,
a sudden overpowering delight in what are called common things--mere
earth, sky, sun, and wind. How lovely life was on such a morning, in
such a clean, rain-washed, wind-scoured world. The wet smell of the
garden came up to her, a whiff of marshy smell from the water, a long
breath from the pines in the forest on the other side of the house. How
had she ever breathed at Estcourt? How had she escaped suffocation
without this life-giving smell of sea and forest? She looked down with
delight at the wildness of the garden; after the trim Estcourt lawns,
what a relief this was. This was all liberty, freedom from
conventionality, absolute privacy; that was an everlasting clipping, and
trimming, and raking, a perpetual stumbling upon gardeners at every
step, for Susie would not be outdone by her greater neighbours in these
matters. What was Hill Street looking like this fine March morning? All
the blinds down, all the people in bed--how far away, how shadowy it
was; a street inhabited by sleepy ghosts, with phantom milkmen rattling
spectral cans beneath their windows. What a dream that life lived up to
three days ago seemed in this morning light of reality. White clouds,
like the clouds in Raphael's backgrounds, were floating so high overhead
that they could not be hurried by the wind; a black cat sat in a patch
of sunshine on the path washing itself; somebody opened a lower window,
and there was a noise of sweeping, presently made indistinguishable by
the chorale sung by the sweeper, no doubt Marie, in a pious, Good Friday
mood. "_Lob Gott ihr Christen allzugleich_," chanted Marie, keeping time
with her broom. Her voice was loud and monotonous, but Anna listened
with a smile, and would have liked to join in, and so let some of her
happiness find its way out.

She dressed quickly. There was no hot water, and no bell to ring for
some, and she did not choose to call down from the window and interrupt
the hymn, so she used cold water, assuring herself that it was bracing.
The