or repulsed.

Marsham meanwhile was full of annoyance. That Alicia should still treat
him in that domestic, possessive way--and in Diana's presence--was
really intolerable. It must be stopped.

He paused on the other side of the gate.

"After all, I am not in a mood to see Robins to-day. Look!--the light is
going. Will you show me the path on to the hill? You spoke to me once
of a path you were fond of."

She tried to laugh.

"You take Robins for granted?"

"I am quite indifferent to his virtues--even his vices! This chance--is
too precious. I have so much to say to you."

She led the way in silence. The hand which held up her dress from the
mire trembled a little unseen. But her sense of the impending crisis had
given her more rather than less dignity. She bore her dark head finely,
with that unconscious long-descended instinct of the woman, waiting
to be sued.

They found a path beyond the garden, winding up through a leafless wood.
Marsham talked of indifferent things, and she answered him with spirit,
feeling it all, so far, a queer piece of acting. Then they emerged on
the side of the hill beside a little basin in the chalk, where a gnarled
thorn or two, an overhanging beech, and a bed of withered heather, made
a kind of intimate, furnished place, which appealed to the passer-by.

"Here is the sunset," said Marsham, looking round him. "Are you afraid
to sit a little?"

He took a light overcoat he had been carrying over his arm and spread it
on the heather. She protested that it was winter, and coats were for
wearing. He took no notice, and she tamely submitted. He placed her
regally, with an old thorn for support and canopy; and then he stood a
moment beside her gazing westward.

They looked over undulations of the chalk, bare stubble fields and
climbing woods, bathed in the pale gold of a February sunset. The light
was pure and wan--the resting earth shone through it gently yet
austerely; only the great woods darkly massed on the horizon gave an
accent of mysterious power to a scene in which Nature otherwise showed
herself the tamed and homely servant of men. Below were the trees of
Beechcote, the gray walls, and the windows touched with a last
festal gleam.

Suddenly Marsham dropped down beside her.

"I see it all with new eyes," he said, passionately. "I have lived in
this country from my childhood; and I never saw it before! Diana!--"

He raised her hand, which only faintly resisted; he looke