be
done without a partner--there was the rub! Tell me--do you regard women
as responsible beings? I should like to have your opinion on that."

It was, of course, ironical--yet there was something in those
words--something!

"I think it's you, sir, who ought to give me yours."

"My dear Lennan--my experience is a mere nothing!"

That was meant for unkindness to her! He would not answer. If only
Stormer would go away! The music had stopped. They would be sitting out
somewhere, talking! He made an effort, and said:

"I was up the hill at the back this morning, where the cross is. There
were some jolly goats."

And suddenly he saw her coming. She was alone--flushed, smiling; it
struck him that her frock was the same colour as the moonlight.

"Harold, will you dance?"

He would say 'Yes,' and she would be gone again! But his tutor only made
her a little bow, and said with that smile of his:

"Lennan and I have agreed that dancing is for the young."

"Sometimes the old must sacrifice themselves. Mark, will you dance?"

Behind him he heard his tutor murmur:

"Ah! Lennan--you betray me!"

That little silent journey with her to the dancing-room was the happiest
moment perhaps that he had ever known. And he need not have been so much
afraid about his dancing. Truly, it was not polished, but it could not
spoil hers, so light, firm, buoyant! It was wonderful to dance with her.
Only when the music stopped and they sat down did he know how his head
was going round. He felt strange, very strange indeed. He heard her say:

"What is it, dear boy? You look so white!"

Without quite knowing what he did, he bent his face towards the hand
that she had laid on his sleeve, then knew no more, having fainted.

VIII

Growing boy--over-exertion in the morning! That was all! He was himself
very quickly, and walked up to bed without assistance. Rotten of him!
Never was anyone more ashamed of his little weakness than this boy. Now
that he was really a trifle indisposed, he simply could not bear the
idea of being nursed at all or tended. Almost rudely he had got away.
Only when he was in bed did he remember the look on her face as he left
her. How wistful and unhappy, seeming to implore him to forgive her! As
if there were anything to forgive! As if she had not made him perfectly
happy when she danced with him! He longed to say to her: "If I might be
close to you like that one minute every day, then I don't mind all the
rest