rse--that I could not
understand. I thought it was very likely some obscure influence of
common forms of speech, some traditional or inherited feeling--a vague
notion that suicide is a legal crime; words of old moralists and
preachers which remain in the air and help to form all the authorized
moral conventions. Yes, I was surprised at her remorse. But lowering
her glance unexpectedly till her dark eye-lashes seemed to rest against
her white cheeks she presented a perfectly demure aspect. It was so
attractive that I could not help a faint smile. That Flora de Barral
should ever, in any aspect, have the power to evoke a smile was the very
last thing I should have believed. She went on after a slight
hesitation:

"One day I started for there, for that place."

Look at the influence of a mere play of physiognomy! If you remember
what we were talking about you will hardly believe that I caught myself
grinning down at that demure little girl. I must say too that I felt
more friendly to her at the moment than ever before.

"Oh, you did? To take that jump? You are a determined young person.
Well, what happened that time?"

An almost imperceptible alteration in her bearing; a slight droop of her
head perhaps--a mere nothing--made her look more demure than ever.

"I had left the cottage," she began a little hurriedly. "I was walking
along the road--you know, _the_ road. I had made up my mind I was not
coming back this time."

I won't deny that these words spoken from under the brim of her hat (oh
yes, certainly, her head was down--she had put it down) gave me a thrill;
for indeed I had never doubted her sincerity. It could never have been a
make-believe despair.

"Yes," I whispered. "You were going along the road."

"When . . . " Again she hesitated with an effect of innocent shyness
worlds asunder from tragic issues; then glided on . . . "When suddenly
Captain Anthony came through a gate out of a field."

I coughed down the beginning of a most improper fit of laughter, and felt
ashamed of myself. Her eyes raised for a moment seemed full of innocent
suffering and unexpressed menace in the depths of the dilated pupils
within the rings of sombre blue. It was--how shall I say it?--a night
effect when you seem to see vague shapes and don't know what reality you
may come upon at any time. Then she lowered her eyelids again, shutting
all mysteriousness out of the situation except for the sobering memory of