d movements, the requests, the handings and thanks, the
going from room to room, the partings and assemblings. It hung about
the fabrics and fittings of the house. Overwhelmingly it came in through
oblongs of window giving on to stairways. Going upstairs in the light
pouring in from some uncurtained window, she would cease for a moment to
breathe.

Whenever she found herself alone she began to sing, softly. When she was
with others a head drooped or lifted, the movement of a hand, the light
falling along the detail of a profile could fill her with happiness.

It made companionship a perpetual question. At rare moments there would
come a tingling from head to foot, a faint buzzing at her lips and at
the tip of each finger. At these moments she could raise her eyes calmly
to those about her and drink in the fact of their presence, see them
all with perfect distinctness, but without distinguishing one from the
other. She wanted to say, "Isn't it extraordinary? Do you realise?" She
felt that if only she could make her meaning clear all difficulties must
vanish. Outside in the open, going forward to some goal through sunny
mornings, gathering at inns, wading through the scented undergrowth of
the woods, she would dream of the secure return to Waldstrasse, their
own beleaguered place. She saw it opening out warm and familiar back and
back to the strange beginning in the winter. They would be there again
to-night, singing.

2

One morning she knew that there was going to be a change. The term was
coming to an end. There was to be a going away. The girls were talking
about "Norderney."

"Going to Norderney, Hendy?" Jimmie said suddenly.

"Ah!" she responded mysteriously. For the rest of that day she sat
contracted and fearful.

3

"You shall write and enquire of your good parents what they would have
you do. You shall tell them that the German pupils return all to their
homes; that the English pupils go for a happy holiday to the sea."

"Oh yes," said Miriam conversationally, with trembling breath.

"It is of course evident that since you will have no duties to perform,
I cannot support the expense of your travelling and your maintenance."

"Oh no, of course not," said Miriam, her hands pressed against her knee.

She sat shivering in the warm dim saal shaded by the close sun-blinds.
It looked as she had seen it with her father for the first time and
Fraulein sitting near seemed to be once more in the h