t shall we do?"

She looked at me a little doubtfully. I had grown into the habit of
consulting her about my work, of reading most of it to her. Sometimes,
too, she acted as my secretary. Perhaps she saw something of the trouble
in my face, for she answered me very softly.

"I should like," she said, "to sit there before the open window on a
cushion, and to have you sit down in that easy-chair and read to me.
That is how I choose to spend the morning!"

I shook my head.

"How about the others?" I asked.

"Oh, Arthur and Allan can go for a walk!" she declared.

"What selfishness," I answered, as lightly as I could. "Arthur must go
back to town to-night, he says. I think that we ought all to spend the
day together, don't you? I rather thought that you young people would
have been off somewhere directly after breakfast."

She looked at me earnestly.

"Of course," she said, "if you want to be left alone----"

"But I don't," I interrupted, reaching for my hat. "I want to come too."

"You nice old thing!" she exclaimed, passing her arm through mine.
"We'll walk to Heather Hill. Arthur says that we can see the sea from
there. Come along!"

So we started away, the four of us together. Presently, however, Arthur
and Isobel drew away in front. Allan, with a little grunt, stopped to
light his pipe.

"Arthur may keep his compact in the letter," he said, "but in the spirit
he breaks it every time their eyes meet. You can't blame him. It's human
nature, after all--the gravitation of youth. Arnold, I'm afraid you
awoke to your responsibilities too late."

"You think--that she understands?" I asked quietly.

"Why not? She is almost a woman, and she is older than her years. Look
at them now. He wants to talk seriously, and she is teasing him all the
time. She has the instinct of her sex. She will conceal what she feels
until the--psychological moment. But she does feel--she begins to
understand. I am sure of it. Watch them!"

We kept silence for a while, I myself struggling with a sickening sense
of despair against this newborn and most colossal folly. I think that I
was always possessed of an average amount of self-control, but my great
fear now was lest my secret should in any way escape me. Mabane's words
had carried conviction with them. Life itself for these few deadly
minutes seemed changed. The birds had ceased to sing, and the warmth of
the sunshine had faded out of the fluttering east wind. I saw no longer
th