ad missed one
train at Turnhill and had preferred not to wait for the next. Although
they had been very busy in Hilda's house throughout all the afternoon
and a part of the evening, and had eaten only a picnic meal, neither of
them was aware of fatigue, and the two miles to Bursley seemed a trifle.

Going slowly up the steep slope, they did not converse. Janet said that
the weather was changing, and Hilda, without replying, peered at the
black baffling sky. The air had, almost suddenly, grown warmer. Above,
in the regions unseen, mysterious activities were in movement, as if
marshalling vast forces. The stars had vanished. A gentle but equivocal
wind on the cheek presaged rain, and seemed to be bearing downwards into
the homeliness of the earth some strange vibration out of infinite
space. The primeval elements of the summer night encouraged and
intensified Hilda's mood, half joyous, half apprehensive. She thought:
"A few days ago, I was in Hornsey, with the prospect of the visit to
Turnhill before me. Now the visit is behind me. I said that Janet should
be my companion, and she has been my companion. I said that I would cut
myself free, and I have cut myself free. I need never go to Turnhill
again, unless I like. The two trunks will be sent for to-morrow; and all
the rest will be sold--even the clock. The thing is done. I have
absolute liberty, and an income, and the intimacy of this splendid
affectionate Janet.... How fortunate it was that Mr. Cannon was not at
his office when we called! Of course I was obliged to call.... And yet
would it not be more satisfactory if I had seen him?... I must have been
in a horribly morbid state up at Hornsey.... Soon I must decide about my
future. Soon I shall actually have decided!... Life is very queer!" She
had as yet no notion whatever of what she would do with her liberty and
her income and the future; but she thought vaguely of something heroic,
grandiose, and unusual.

II

In her hand she carried a small shabby book, bound in blue and gold,
with gilt edges a little irregular. She had found this book while
sorting out the multitudinous contents of her mother's wardrobe, and at
the last moment, perceiving that it had been overlooked, and being
somehow ashamed to leave it to the auctioneers, she had brought it away,
not knowing how she would ultimately dispose of it. The book had
possibly been dear to her mother, but she could not embarrass her
freedom by conserving everythi