, and also that unless we
intended to be medical students for ever it was necessary to become
medical men. Lastly, it began to dawn upon Tom that "Francesca: a
Tragedy" was a somewhat turgid performance, and on me that a holiday
on Sunday was demanded by six days of work.

I do not know that we displayed any remarkable interest in the
_Materia Medica_, or that the authorities of Guy's looked upon us as
likely to do them any singular credit. But Tom, who had now a
writing-desk, made great alterations in "Francesca," while I consumed
vast quantities of tobacco in the endeavour to reproduce a certain
face in my note-book; and I am certain that the resolution to take a
holiday on Sunday was as strong at the end of the first week as
though I had wrought my faculties to the verge of brain fever.

I did not see her on that Sunday, or the next, though twice my boat
explored the river between Goring and Pangbourne from early morning
until nightfall. But let me hasten over heart-aching and bitterness,
and come to the blessed Sunday when for a second time I saw my love.

Again the day was radiant with summer. Above, the vaulted blue
arched to a capstone of noonday gold. Hardly a fleecy cloud troubled
the height of heaven, or blotted the stream's clear mirror; save here
and there where the warm air danced and quivered over the still
meadows, the season's colour lay equal upon earth. Before me the
river wound silently into the sunny solitude of space untroubled by
sight of human form.

But what was that speck of white far down the bank--that brighter
spot upon the universal brightness, moving, advancing? My heart gave
one great leap; in a moment my boat's bows were high upon the
crumbling bank, and I was gazing down the tow-path.

Yes, it was she! From a thousand thousand I could tell that
perfect form as it loitered--how slowly--up the river's verge.
Along heaven's boundary the day was lit with glory for me, and all
the glory but a golden frame for that white speck so carelessly
approaching. Still and mute I stood as it drew nearer--so still, so
mute, that a lazy pike thrust out its wolfish jaws just under my feet
and, seeing me, splashed under again in great discomposure; so
motionless that a blundering swallow all but darted against me, then
swept curving to the water, and vanished down the stream.

She had been gathering May-blossom, and held a cluster in one hand.
As before, her gown was purest white, and, as be