from Greek joyousness. And yet the
Greek sense of beauty, half intellectual, half sensuous, had always
seemed to her the strongest force in him. Was it now besieged by
something else?--was the Faun in him, at last, after these three
years, beginning to feel the bitter grip of humanity?

'"Deeper"? I don't know what you mean. There is nothing "deep" in
me!' She often recalled that saying of his, and the look of
perplexity which had accompanied it.

To herself of late he had been always courteous and indulgent; she
had hardly had an uncivil word from him! But it seemed to her that
he had also begun to avoid her, and the suspicion hurt her
amazingly. If indeed it were true, then leave Mannering she must.

He came up with her at a cross-road, and threw her a look of
enquiry.

'You have been to the village?'

'To the hospital. Thirty fresh wounded arrived last night.'

'I have just seen Chicksands,' said the Squire abruptly. 'Arthur
tells him the German attack must be launched in a week or two, and
may come any day. A million men, probably, thrown against us.'

'So--the next few months will decide,' said Elizabeth, shuddering.

'My God!--why did we ever go into this war!' cried the man beside
her suddenly, in a low, stifled voice. She glanced at him in
astonishment. The new excuses, the new tenderness for him in her
heart made themselves heard.

'It was for honour,' she breathed--'for freedom!'

'Words--just words. They don't stop bombs!'

But there was nothing truculent in the tone.

'You had a line from Mr. Desmond this morning?'

'Yes--a post card. He was all right.'

Silence dropped between them. They walked on through the beautiful
wooded park. Carpets of primroses ran beside them, and masses of
wild cherry blossoms were beginning to show amid the beeches.
Elizabeth was vaguely conscious of beauty, of warm air, of heavenly
sun. But the veil upon the face of all nations was upon her eyes
also.

When they reached the house, the Squire said,

'I looked up the passage in the _Persae_ that occurred to me
yesterday. Will you come and take it down?'

They went into the library together. On a special table in front of
the Squire's desk there stood a magnificent Greek vase of the early
fifth century B.C. A king--Persian, from his dress--was sitting in a
chair of state, and before him stood a small man apparently
delivering a message. [Greek: Aggelos] was roughly written over his
head.

The Squire walked