alone, she went her way with settled purpose;
with flashing eyes and glowing cheeks--and a beating heart. A heart all
woman's since it throbbed the most with apprehension when the enemy, Man,
was the objective of her most resolute attack. She knew that she must
keep moving; that she must not stop or pause; or her whole resolution
must collapse. And so she hurried on, fearful lest a chance meeting with
any one might imperil her purpose.

On she went through the faint moss-green paths; through meadows rich with
flowering grasses and the many reds of the summer wild-flowers. And so
up through the path cut in the natural dipping of the rock that rose over
Caester Hill and formed a strong base for the clump of great trees that
made a landmark for many a mile around. During the first part of her
journey between the house and the hilltop, she tried to hold her purpose
at arm's length; it would be sufficient to face its terrors when the time
had come. In the meantime the matter was of such overwhelming importance
that nothing else could take its place; all she could do was to suspend
the active part of the thinking faculties and leave the mind only
receptive.

But when she had passed through the thin belt of stunted oak and beech
which hedged in the last of the lush meadows, and caught sight of the
clump of trees on the hilltop, she unconsciously braced herself as a
young regiment loses its tremors when the sight of the enemy breaks upon
it. No longer her eyes fell earthward; they were raised, and raised
proudly. Stephen Norman was fixed in her intention. Like the woman of
old, her feet were on the ploughshares and she would not hesitate.

As she drew near the appointed place her pace grew slower and slower; the
woman in her was unconsciously manifesting itself. She would not be
first in her tryst with a man. Unconsciousness, however, is not a
working quality which can be relied upon for staying power; the approach
to the trysting-place brought once more home to her the strange nature of
her enterprise. She had made up her mind to it; there was no use in
deceiving herself. What she had undertaken to do was much more
unconventional than being first at a meeting. It was foolish and weak to
delay. The last thought braced her up; and it was with a hurried gait,
which alone would have betrayed her to an intelligent observer, that she
entered the grove.

CHAPTER XI--THE MEETING

Had Stephen been better ac