inths. Far as one could see along
the deep cliff, where the murmuring stream had carved itself a bed, the
flowers spread like sheets of blue fire. In the more distant hollows the
delicate masses of colour lay like clouds of gorgeous mist. Shooting
straight up from the beds of hyacinths, tall elms met overhead, and the
rooks kept up a clamour that dulled the senses without causing anything
like irritation. The girl stepped down the path, and the light from the
green leaves floated around her and touched her face and figure with
delicate shadows and flickering brightness. She looked a joyous and
beautiful creature, and the slim young man who met her by accident
thought that he had never seen any picture so full of youth and delight.

The meeting was a pure coincidence.

The days passed on, and again and again Miss Blanchflower walked in the
Dene amid the flame of the hyacinths. Her mother trusted her greatly,
and Desborough was too simple to have any afterthought when he found
that his morning visits were discouraged. He was grateful for every
moment of her company, and he placidly looked forward to the time when
his quiet life should be crowned. Sometimes he chatted quite contentedly
with Mrs. Blanchflower until Marion returned. Several people in the town
could have told him things that would have surprised him, but he held so
much aloof from all company that nobody ventured on familiar talk with
him. The one man who had his confidence was the Wesleyan local preacher;
but Musgrave lived a long way from the town, and Desborough saw him
seldom.

One morning Desborough went down by the end of the stream. The water was
low, and underneath the roots of a great tree there was a deep hollow
that had been scooped out by the torrents of winter. An odd fancy made
Desborough climb down and creep into this cavity under the network of
roots. From the place where he was seated he could not only see the
clear water running away seaward, but he could look right up the path
that ran among the tall elms.

He was gazing mechanically on the ripples, and had allowed his mind to
be hushed into complete vacuity by the delicate babble of the water over
the pebbles, when suddenly a flash of colour seemed to grow upon his
consciousness, and he saw a man and woman walking together down the very
path that led to the cave where he had been dreaming. He placed his hand
to his forehead and tried to think. It seemed as though his heart had
been tou