ear was to be
tried, lest, if die he must, he should die to please her or thinking that
she wanted him to die. He did not think now that she wanted that; she was
happier with him than she had ever been before. She had found a new
indulgence for him, even for what she had hated in him. Justice would
have turned to harshness, clearness of vision to a Pharisaic strictness,
had she not found indulgence for the man who had crept back to kiss her
hand. She was very indulgent towards him, and he seemed happy, save that
now and then he looked at her wistfully, and began to fall into the way
of reminding her of past occasions when he had shone and she admired,
asking whether she remembered this and that. He dropped hints too that
the Henstead speech was to be memorable. She was a little afraid that
already he was feeling indulgence insufficient and mere kindness, or
indeed mere affection, not the great thing that he asked of her, just as
peace and quiet, or pictures, books, and hills, were not the things that
he asked of life. If this were so, the compromise she had brought him to
consent to was precarious; it was, as she had hinted to Aunt Maria,
doubtful whether they could stick to their year.

There was another question in her mind, not less persistent, not less
troubling. Perhaps the greater harmony between them, which had induced
and enabled her to obtain that consent from him, was as precarious as the
compromise itself; it too was liable to be overthrown by a return of
Quisante's old self, or at least of that side of him which was for the
time hidden. The temptation to work would overthrow the compromise, the
temptation to win might again produce action in him and impose action on
her which would bring death to their newly-achieved harmony, even as
exertion would to his worn-out body.

The great speech, the last speech, was to be on Wednesday. They arrived
in Henstead on Tuesday morning and were plunged at once into a turmoil of
business. There was a luncheon, a deputation, a meeting of the party
association; Japhet Williams had half a dozen difficulties, and old
Foster as many bits of shrewd counsel. Over all and through all was the
air of congratulation, of relief from the fear of losing Quisante, of
enthusiastic applause for his magnificently courageous struggle against
illness and its triumphant issue. When May hinted at a period of
rest--the full extent of it was not disclosed--Foster nodded tolerantly,
Japhet said t