hing terror-stricken away to a remote
position in the thicket of palms which neighboured the dwelling.

The crude realism of the picture, possibly harmless enough in its effect
upon others, overpowered and sickened her. By a curious fascination she
would look at it again and again, till every line of the engraver's
performance seemed really a transcript from what had happened before his
eyes. With such details fresh in her thoughts she was going out of the
door to make arrangements for confirming, by repetition, her marriage
with another. No interval was available for serious reflection on the
tragedy, or for allowing the softening effects of time to operate in her
mind. It was as though her first husband had died that moment, and she
was keeping an appointment with another in the presence of his corpse.

So revived was the actuality of Sir Blount's recent life and death by
this incident, that the distress of her personal relations with Swithin
was the single force in the world which could have coerced her into
abandoning to him the interval she would fain have set apart for getting
over these new and painful impressions. Self-pity for ill-usage afforded
her good reasons for ceasing to love Sir Blount; but he was yet too
closely intertwined with her past life to be destructible on the instant
as a memory.

But there was no choice of occasions for her now, and she steadily waited
for the church bells to cease chiming. At last all was silent; the
surrounding cottagers had gathered themselves within the walls of the
adjacent building. Tabitha Lark's first voluntary then droned from the
tower window, and Lady Constantine left the garden in which she had been
loitering, and went towards Rings-Hill Speer.

The sense of her situation obscured the morning prospect. The country
was unusually silent under the intensifying sun, the songless season of
birds having just set in. Choosing her path amid the efts that were
basking upon the outer slopes of the plantation she wound her way up the
tree-shrouded camp to the wooden cabin in the centre.

The door was ajar, but on entering she found the place empty. The tower
door was also partly open; and listening at the foot of the stairs she
heard Swithin above, shifting the telescope and wheeling round the
rumbling dome, apparently in preparation for the next nocturnal
reconnoitre. There was no doubt that he would descend in a minute or two
to look for her, and not wishing