prised him.

When, at the descent of the hill, she had reached the stile that admitted
to Mrs. Martin's garden, Lady Constantine stood quite still for a minute
or more, her gaze bent on the ground. Instead of coming on to the house
she went heavily and slowly back, almost as if in pain; and then at
length, quickening her pace, she was soon out of sight. She appeared in
the path no more that day.

XI

Why had Lady Constantine stopped and turned?

A misgiving had taken sudden possession of her. Her true sentiment
towards St. Cleeve was too recognizable by herself to be tolerated.

That she had a legitimate interest in him as a young astronomer was true;
that her sympathy on account of his severe illness had been natural and
commendable was also true. But the superfluous feeling was what filled
her with trepidation.

Superfluities have been defined as things you cannot do without, and this
particular emotion, that came not within her rightful measure, was in
danger of becoming just such a superfluity with her. In short, she felt
there and then that to see St. Cleeve again would be an impropriety; and
by a violent effort she retreated from his precincts, as he had observed.

She resolved to ennoble her conduct from that moment of her life onwards.
She would exercise kind patronage towards Swithin without once indulging
herself with his company. Inexpressibly dear to her deserted heart he
was becoming, but for the future he should at least be hidden from her
eyes. To speak plainly, it was growing a serious question whether, if he
were not hidden from her eyes, she would not soon be plunging across the
ragged boundary which divides the permissible from the forbidden.

By the time that she had drawn near home the sun was going down. The
heavy, many-chevroned church, now subdued by violet shadow except where
its upper courses caught the western stroke of flame-colour, stood close
to her grounds, as in many other parishes, though the village of which it
formerly was the nucleus had become quite depopulated: its cottages had
been demolished to enlarge the park, leaving the old building to stand
there alone, like a standard without an army.

It was Friday night, and she heard the organist practising voluntaries
within. The hour, the notes, the even-song of the birds, and her own
previous emotions, combined to influence her devotionally. She entered,
turning to the right and passing under the chancel arch,