t day that I met you going away from Aunt
Anne--oh, what a pig I was! I was at the top of my highminded
game--what had happened then?"

"Of course I will tell you," said Maud, "if you want to know. Well, I
rather broke down, and said that things had gone wrong; that you had
begun by being so nice to me, and we seemed to have made friends; and
that then a cloud had come between us: and then Cousin Anne said it
would be all right, she KNEW; and she said some things about you I
won't repeat, to save your modesty; and then she said, 'Don't be
AFRAID, Maud! don't be ashamed of caring for people! Howard is used to
making friends with boys, and he is puzzled by you; he wants a friend
like you, but he is afraid of caring for people. You are not afraid of
him nor he of you, but he is afraid of his own fear.' She did not seem
to know how I cared, but she put it all right somehow; she prayed with
me, for courage and patience; and I felt I could afford to wait and see
what happened."

"And then?" said Howard.

"Why, you know the rest!" said Maud. "I saw as we sate by the wall, in
a flash, that you did indeed care for me, and I thought to myself,
'Here is the best thing in the world, and we can't be going to miss it
out of politeness;' and then it was all over in a moment!"

"Politeness!" said Howard, "yes, it was all politeness; that's my
greatest sin. Yes," he added, "I do thank God with all my heart for
your sweet courage that day!" He drew Maud's hand into his own, as they
sate together on the grass just above the shingle of the little bay,
where the sea broke on the sands with crisp wavelets, and ran like a
fine sheet of glass over the beach. "Look at this little hand," he
said, "and let me try to believe that it is given me of its own will
and desire!"

"Yes," said Maud, smiling, "and you may cut it off at the wrist if you
like--I won't even wince. I have no further use for it, I believe!"
Howard folded it to his heart, and felt the little pulse beat in the
slender wrist; and presently the sun went down, a ball of fire into the
opalescent sea-line.

XXV

THE NEW KNOWLEDGE

But the weeks which followed Howard's marriage were a great deal more
than a refreshing discovery of companionable and even unexpected
qualities. There was something which came to him, of which the words,
the gestures, the signs of love seemed like faint symbols; the essence
of it was obscure to him; it reminded him of how, as a child, a