cond yesterday afternoon, and he told me then.
This was just a reminder. He must have sent it off last night. A good
thing he did send it, though. I'd quite forgotten."

"But what is it? What does he want you to go on Sunday for?"

Louis shrugged his shoulders, as if to intimate that nothing that
Horrocleave did ought to surprise anybody.

"Then what about church?"

Louis replied on the spur of the moment--

"You go there by yourself. I'll meet you there. I can easily be there
by eleven."

"But I don't know the pew."

"They'll show you your pew all right, never fear."

"I shall wait for you in the churchyard."

"Very well. So long as it isn't raining."

She kissed him fervently when he departed.

Long before it was time to leave for church she had a practical and
beautiful idea--one of those ideas that occur to young women in love.
Instead of waiting for Louis in the churchyard she would call for him
at the works, which was not fifty yards off the direct route to St.
Luke's. By this means she would save herself from the possibility of
inconvenience within the precincts of the church, and she would also
prevent the conscienceless Mr. Horrocleave from keeping Louis in the
office all the morning. She wondered that the idea had not occurred
to Louis, who was very gifted in such matters as the arrangement of
rendezvous.

She started in good time because she wanted to walk without hurry, and
to ponder. The morning, though imperfect and sunless, had in it some
quality of the spring, which the buoyant youth of Rachel instantly
discovered and tasted in triumph. Moreover, the spirit of a festival
was abroad, and visible in the costume and faces of passers-by; and
it was the first festival of the year. Rachel responded to it eagerly,
mingling her happiness with the general exultation. She was intensely,
unreasonably happy. She knew that she was unreasonably happy; and she
did not mind.

When she turned into Friendly Street the big black double gates of
the works were shut, but in one of them a little door stood ajar.
She pushed it, stooped, and entered the twilight of the archway. The
office door was shut. She walked uncertain up the archway into the
yard, and through a dirty window on her left she could dimly discern
a man gesticulating. She decided that he must be Horrocleave. She
hesitated, and then, slightly confused, thought, "Perhaps I'd better
go back to the archway and knock at the office door."

I