en by inconsequent remarks, the party descended the hill, regained
the carriages, and drove off in mournful silence. As the Vicarage party
drove away, Jack glanced at Howard, raised his eyes in mock despair,
and gave a solemn shake of his head.

Howard followed with Miss Merry, and talked wildly about the future of
English poetry, till they drove in under the archway of the Manor and
his penance was at an end.

XIX

DESPONDENCY

Howard spent some very unhappy days after that, mostly alone. They were
very active at the Vicarage making expeditions, fishing, playing
lawn-tennis, and once or twice pressed him to join them. But he excused
himself on the ground that he must work at his book; he could not bear
to carry his despondency and his dolorous air into so blithe a company;
and he was, moreover, consumed by a jealousy which humiliated him. If
Guthrie was destined to win Maud's love he should have a fair field;
and yet Howard's imagination played him many fevered tricks in those
days, and the thought of what might be happening used to sting him into
desperation. His own mood alternated between misery and languor. He
used to sit staring at his book, unable to write a word, and became
gradually aware that he had never been unhappy in his life before.
That, then, was what unhappiness meant, not a mood of refined and
romantic melancholy, but a raging fire of depression that seemed to
burn his life away, both physically and mentally, with intervals of
drowsy listlessness.

He would have liked to talk to his aunt, but could not bring himself to
do so. She, on the other hand, seemed to notice nothing, and it was a
great relief to him that she never commented upon his melancholy and
obvious fatigue, but went on in her accustomed serene way, which evoked
his courtesy and sense of decorum, and made him behave decently in
spite of himself. Miss Merry seemed much more inclined to sympathise,
and Howard used to intercept her gaze bent upon him in deep concern.

One afternoon, returning from a lonely walk, he met Maud going out of
the Manor gate. She looked happy, he thought. He stopped and made a few
commonplace remarks. She looked at him rather strangely, he felt, and
seemed to be searching his face for some sign of the old goodwill; but
he hardened his heart, though he would have given worlds to tell her
what was in his mind; but he felt that any reconstruction of friendship
must be left till a later date, when he mi