identified with commonness.... He might bring
the talk to the point of--Beth thrilled at this. She was far from
ready, and yet with him before her, Wordling and the sea were remote
and soundless.

"Could you get the good mare you ride--across to Jersey?"

"Yes," he said eagerly. "I could send a man over with her--a day
ahead."

This was Thursday.

"I'll ride with you Saturday," she said finally. "You get your horse
over to Dunstan Friday--to-morrow--and we'll start from here early
Saturday morning. A day in the hills--and supper at night in my real
home!"

She had never seen him so pleased, but Beth was a little startled at
herself when she considered yesterday.... He was always so different
when he came, from the creation of her mind when alone, and the doubts
flew in and out. Then the little sacred book he had brought--so
powerfully fathomed and marked--it was like bringing his youth to her,
with all its thoughts and wanderings. He was particularly attractive to
her in these little things, and she missed not a phase of such
impulses. He delighted to see them in _her_ house, he said, and she
knew they had been his riches in the years of loneliness and
wandering.... Far back in her faculties, however, the battle was
furious and constant. Every faltering advance of faith was met and
assailed.

"I thank you," he said. "In fact, I can't thank you.... What a day it
will be for me to live over.... There's a little thing that needs
doing. It will take me away for three or four days next week."

Beth almost laughed. She caught the laugh of mockery in time. The ride
just arranged seized and held her attention, like some baleful
creature. There was abomination about it, to her thoughts--the ease
with which he had managed, her abject softness.... She was trembling
within, all her resistance settling, straining, like a tree before the
final stroke of the axe. Her hands trembled crazily and were cold....
She had given her word; yes, they would ride together. She could not
evade his eyes, his question, if she refused now.... He must not see
that she was whipped.... But she would not see him after that. He could
not come back to her from the Wordling arms. She would not see him
to-morrow. But the picture----

She had turned from the easel to her desk, and was fumbling with papers
there, her back turned to him. A half minute had passed since his last
word... One word came from her:

"Yes?"

She had meant it to sound as