hts come into my mind. I cannot hold them.
When I try to grasp them they are gone. It is rather a horrid feeling,
not to be able to master your own thoughts. There is so much that I
have forgotten--so much that seems blank. But, thank God, I have still
my memory of you. All through my illness you were the anchor to which
I clung when everything else drifted away from me."

It had become such a habit with Philippa to speak the word which would
turn him from any effort to remember, that she did it now almost
unconsciously. It was never very difficult, for he was only too ready
to follow any lead she gave him towards the subject of their
contentment in each other, or the safe topic of the existing moment.

"Do not try to remember, dearest. Think only that we are together."

She felt his arm go round her and she leaned towards him.

"You are my life," he said earnestly, "and nothing matters when you are
beside me. I think I have reason to be grateful to the long hours when
I was weak and ill. They have taught me what you really are--an angel
of tenderness and patience. It was a dark time, my darling, but the
remembrance only intensifies the present joy."

"Ah, yes," she repeated softly; "the present joy."

"And a future to be glorified by our love lies all before us. What is
a little weakness of body when weighed against all the precious
possessions which are mine?"

He held her closer until her head was resting on his breast. It seemed
to Philippa then that life could hold no moment more charged with utter
bliss than this--she and the man she loved, together in a vast
encircling peace.

CHAPTER XX

BITTER-SWEET

"Full from the fount of love's delicious joys
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings."--BYRON.

The low carriage jolted over the deep ruts left by the carts which had
carried the bracken the previous autumn, as the stout pony threw
himself into the collar with a will. On either side of the narrow lane
were high, sandy banks, riddled with rabbit-holes and crowned with a
tangle of brambles and briars. The leaves were just beginning to turn,
and the hips and haws had already clothed themselves in their winter
finery, and shone in flaming scarlet against the blue sky overhead.
There was a pleasant coolness in the air, and the birds twittered
merrily in tune with Nature's cheerful mood.

Francis was in excellent spirits, and Philippa, noticing the unwonted
colour