ce of expression, that General D'Hubert really never found the
opportunity to examine with sufficient detachment the lofty exigencies
of his pride. In fact, he became shy of that line of inquiry since it
had led once or twice to a crisis of solitary passion in which it was
borne upon him that he loved her enough to kill her rather than lose
her. From such passages, not unknown to men of forty, he would come out
broken, exhausted, remorseful, a little dismayed. He derived, however,
considerable comfort from the quietist practice of sitting now and then
half the night by an open window and meditating upon the wonder of
her existence, like a believer lost in the mystic contemplation of his
faith.

It must not be supposed that all these variations of his inward state
were made manifest to the world. General D 'Hubert found no difficulty
in appearing wreathed in smiles. Because, in fact, he was very happy.
He followed the established rules of his condition, sending over flowers
(from his sister's garden and hot-houses) early every morning, and a
little later following himself to lunch with his intended, her mother,
and her emigre uncle. The middle of the day was spent in strolling or
sitting in the shade. A watchful deference, trembling on the verge of
tenderness was the note of their intercourse on his side--with a playful
turn of the phrase concealing the profound trouble of his whole being
caused by her inaccessible nearness. Late in the afternoon General D
'Hubert walked home between the fields of vines, sometimes intensely
miserable, sometimes supremely happy, sometimes pensively sad; but
always feeling a special intensity of existence, that elation common to
artists, poets, and lovers--to men haunted by a great passion, a noble
thought, or a new vision of plastic beauty.

The outward world at that time did not exist with any special
distinctness for General D'Hubert. One evening, however, crossing a
ridge from which he could see both houses, General D'Hubert became aware
of two figures far down the road. The day had been divine. The festal
decoration of the inflamed sky lent a gentle glow to the sober tints
of the southern land. The grey rocks, the brown fields, the purple,
undulating distances harmonized in luminous accord, exhaled already
the scents of the evening. The two figures down the road presented
themselves like two rigid and wooden silhouettes all black on the ribbon
of white dust. General D'Hubert made out