lf-holiday, and she would wait till then. That was Wednesday.

During the interval, however, a strange chill came over her feelings.
The thought of Alfred was as incessant as ever, but it came without
the glow of delight; something was wrong.

They were to meet on the rocks behind the far pier at low water on
Saturday. Few people came to the far pier, and, when they did, it was
seldom that they looked over; and they could not have seen much if
they had, for the rocks were brown with seaweed, and dark figures
wandering about on them became indistinguishable. Beth went long
before the time. It was a beautiful still grey day, such as she loved,
and she longed to be alone with the sea. The tide was going out, and
she had a fancy for following it from rock to rock as it went. Some
of the bigger rocks were flat-topped islands, separated from the last
halting-place of the tide by narrow straits, across which she sprang;
and on these she would lie her length, peering down into the clear
depths on the farther side, where the healthy happy sea-creatures
disported themselves, and seaweeds of wondrous colours waved in
fantastic forms. The water lapped up and up and up the rocks, rising
with a sobbing sound, and bringing fresh airs with it that fanned her
face, and caused her to draw in her breath involuntarily, and inhale
long deep draughts with delight. As the water went out, bright runnels
were left where rivers had been, and miniature bays became sheltered
coves, paved with polished pebbles or purple mussels, and every little
sandy space was ribbed with solid waves where the busy lob-worms soon
began to send up their ropy castings. Beyond the break of the water
the silver sea sloped up to the horizon, and on it, rocking gently,
far out, a few cobles were scattered, with rich red sails all set
ready, waiting for a breeze. It was an exquisite scene, remote from
all wail of human feeling, and strangely tranquillising. Gradually it
gained upon Beth. Her bosom heaved with the heaving water
rhythmically, and she lost herself in contemplation of sea and sky
scape. Before she had been many minutes prone upon the farthest rock,
the vision and the dream were upon her. That other self of hers
unfurled its wings, and she floated off, revelling in an ecstasy of
gentle motion. Beyond the sea-line were palaces with terraced gardens,
white palaces against which grass and trees showed glossy green; and
there she wandered among the flowers, and