in an arbour; carts and
wagonettes were hitched to the front of the house; and the noise and
merry-making lasted till late in the night. Together they leaned from
the window of Louise's room, to watch the people; they hardly ventured
out of doors, for it was unpleasant to see their favourite nooks
invaded by strangers. Except on Sundays, however, their seclusion
remained undisturbed; half a dozen visitors were staying in the other
wing of the building, and of these they sometimes caught a glimpse at
meals; but that was all: the solitude they desired was still theirs.

And so the happy days slid past; August was well advanced, by this
time, and the tropical heat was at its height. In the beginning, it had
been Maurice who regretted the rapid flight of the days: now it was
Louise. Occasionally, a certain shadow settled on her face, and, at
such moments, he well knew what she was thinking of: for, once, out of
the very fulness of his content, he had said to her with a lazy sigh:
"To-day is the first of August," and then, for the first time, he had
seen this look of intense regret cross her face. She had entreated him
not to say any more; and, after that, the speed with which the month
decreased, was not mentioned between them.

But his carelessly dropped words had sown their seed. A couple of weeks
later, the remembrance of the work he had still to do for Schwarz,
before the beginning of the new term, broke over him like a douche of
cold water. It was a resplendent morning; he had been leaning out of
the window, idly tapping his fingers on the sill. Suddenly they seemed
to him to have grown stiff, to have lost their agility; and by the
thoughts that now came, he was so disquieted that he shut himself up in
his own room.

At his first words to her, Louise, who was still in bed, turned pale.
"Yes, yes, be quiet!--I know," she said, and buried her face in the
down pillow.

In this position she remained for some seconds; Maurice stood staring
out of the window. Then, without raising her face, she held out her
hand to him.

He took it; but he did not do what she expected he would: sit down on
the side of the bed, and put his arm round her. He stood holding it,
absent-mindedly. She stole a glance at him, and turned still paler.
Then, with a jerk, she released her hand, sat up in bed, and pushed her
hair from her face.

"Maurice! ... then if it has to be ... then to-day ... please, please,
to-day! Don't ask me to stay he