et more forcibly; could the lady be
Elfride? A possible reason for her unaccountable failure to keep the
appointment with him returned with painful force.

They entered the grounds of the house by the side wicket, whence
the path, now wide and well trimmed, wound fantastically through the
shrubbery to an octagonal pavilion called the Belvedere, by reason of
the comprehensive view over the adjacent district that its green seats
afforded. The path passed this erection and went on to the house as well
as to the gardener's cottage on the other side, straggling thence
to East Endelstow; so that Stephen felt no hesitation in entering a
promenade which could scarcely be called private.

He fancied that he heard the gate open and swing together again behind
him. Turning, he saw nobody.

The people of the boat came to the summer-house. One of them spoke.

'I am afraid we shall get a scolding for being so late.'

Stephen instantly recognised the familiar voice, richer and fuller now
than it used to be. 'Elfride!' he whispered to himself, and held fast
by a sapling, to steady himself under the agitation her presence caused
him. His heart swerved from its beat; he shunned receiving the meaning
he sought.

'A breeze is rising again; how the ash tree rustles!' said Elfride.
'Don't you hear it? I wonder what the time is.'

Stephen relinquished the sapling.

'I will get a light and tell you. Step into the summer-house; the air is
quiet there.'

The cadence of that voice--its peculiarity seemed to come home to him
like that of some notes of the northern birds on his return to his
native clime, as an old natural thing renewed, yet not particularly
noticed as natural before that renewal.

They entered the Belvedere. In the lower part it was formed of close
wood-work nailed crosswise, and had openings in the upper by way of
windows.

The scratch of a striking light was heard, and a bright glow radiated
from the interior of the building. The light gave birth to dancing
leaf-shadows, stem-shadows, lustrous streaks, dots, sparkles, and
threads of silver sheen of all imaginable variety and transience. It
awakened gnats, which flew towards it, revealed shiny gossamer threads,
disturbed earthworms. Stephen gave but little attention to these
phenomena, and less time. He saw in the summer-house a strongly
illuminated picture.

First, the face of his friend and preceptor Henry Knight, between whom
and himself an estrangement had ari