visiting all the places where they had sate and
lingered. Then in the afternoon they drove away. The old maidservant
gave them, with almost tearful apologies, two little ill-tied posies of
flowers, and Maud kissed her, thanked her, made her promise to write.
As they drove away Maud waved her hand to the little cove--"Good-bye,
Paradise!" she said.

"No," said Howard, "don't say that; the swallow doesn't make the
summer; and I am carrying the summer away with me."

XXVII

THE NEW LIFE

The installation at Windlow seemed as natural and obvious as any other
of the wonderful steps of Howard's new life. The only thing which
bothered him was the incursions of callers, to which his marriage
seemed to have rendered the house liable. Howard loved monotony, and in
the little Windlow party he found everything that he desired. At first
it all rather amused him, because he felt as though he were acting in a
charming and absurd play, and he was delighted to see Maud act her
wedded part. Mrs. Graves frankly enjoyed seeing people of any sort or
kind. But Howard gradually began to find that the arrival of county and
clerical neighbours was a really tiresome thing. Local gossip was
unintelligible to him and did not interest him. Moreover, the necessity
of going out to luncheon, and even to dinner, bored him horribly. He
said once rather pettishly to Maud, after a week of constant
interruptions and little engagements, that he hoped that this sort of
thing would not continue.

"It seems to knock everything on the head," he went on; "these country
idylls are all very well in their way; but when it comes to
entertaining parties day by day, who 'sit simply chatting in a rustic
row,' it becomes intolerable. It doesn't MEAN anything; one can't get
to know these people; if there is anything to know, they seem to think
it polite to conceal it; it can't be a duty to waste all the time that
this takes up?"

Maud laughed and said, "Oh, you must forgive them; they haven't much to
do or talk about, and you are a great excitement; and you are really
very good to them!"

Howard made a grimace. "It's my wretched habit of civility!" he said.
"But really, Maud, you can't LIKE them?"

"Yes, I believe I do," said Maud. "But then I am more or less used to
the kind of thing. I like people, I think!"

"Yes, so do I, in a sort of way," said Howard; "but, really, with some
of these caravans it is more like having a flock of sheep in the place!