you, and bind me to it? I want you
to fix an hour, because I am weak, and may otherwise try to get out of
it.' She added a little artificial laugh, which showed how timorous her
resolution was still.

'Well, say after breakfast--at eleven o'clock.'

'Yes, eleven o'clock. I promise you. Bind me strictly to my word.'

Chapter XXVIII

'I lull a fancy, trouble-tost.'

Miss Swancourt, it is eleven o'clock.'

She was looking out of her dressing-room window on the first floor, and
Knight was regarding her from the terrace balustrade, upon which he had
been idly sitting for some time--dividing the glances of his eye between
the pages of a book in his hand, the brilliant hues of the geraniums and
calceolarias, and the open window above-mentioned.

'Yes, it is, I know. I am coming.'

He drew closer, and under the window.

'How are you this morning, Elfride? You look no better for your long
night's rest.'

She appeared at the door shortly after, took his offered arm, and
together they walked slowly down the gravel path leading to the river
and away under the trees.

Her resolution, sustained during the last fifteen hours, had been to
tell the whole truth, and now the moment had come.

Step by step they advanced, and still she did not speak. They were
nearly at the end of the walk, when Knight broke the silence.

'Well, what is the confession, Elfride?'

She paused a moment, drew a long breath; and this is what she said:

'I told you one day--or rather I gave you to understand--what was not
true. I fancy you thought me to mean I was nineteen my next birthday,
but it was my last I was nineteen.'

The moment had been too much for her. Now that the crisis had come,
no qualms of conscience, no love of honesty, no yearning to make a
confidence and obtain forgiveness with a kiss, could string Elfride up
to the venture. Her dread lest he should be unforgiving was heightened
by the thought of yesterday's artifice, which might possibly add disgust
to his disappointment. The certainty of one more day's affection, which
she gained by silence, outvalued the hope of a perpetuity combined with
the risk of all.

The trepidation caused by these thoughts on what she had intended to say
shook so naturally the words she did say, that Knight never for a moment
suspected them to be a last moment's substitution. He smiled and pressed
her hand warmly.

'My dear Elfie--yes, you are now--no protestation--what a winning little