person now--not at all an island man. But there's no use in talking of
it. I wish I was dead!'

Pierston retreated as quickly as he could. He grieved at the incident
which had brought such pain to this innocent soul; and yet it was
beginning to be a source of vague pleasure to him. He returned to the
house, and when his father had come back and welcomed him, and they
had shared a meal together, Jocelyn again went out, full of an earnest
desire to soothe his young neighbour's sorrow in a way she little
expected; though, to tell the truth, his affection for her was rather
that of a friend than of a lover, and he felt by no means sure that the
migratory, elusive idealization he called his Love who, ever since
his boyhood, had flitted from human shell to human shell an indefinite
number of times, was going to take up her abode in the body of Avice
Caro.

1. II. THE INCARNATION IS ASSUMED TO BE TRUE

It was difficult to meet her again, even though on this lump of rock the
difficulty lay as a rule rather in avoidance than in meeting. But Avice
had been transformed into a very different kind of young woman by
the self-consciousness engendered of her impulsive greeting, and,
notwithstanding their near neighbourhood, he could not encounter her,
try as he would. No sooner did he appear an inch beyond his father's
door than she was to earth like a fox; she bolted upstairs to her room.

Anxious to soothe her after his unintentional slight he could not
stand these evasions long. The manners of the isle were primitive and
straightforward, even among the well-to-do, and noting her disappearance
one day he followed her into the house and onward to the foot of the
stairs.

'Avice!' he called.

'Yes, Mr. Pierston.'

'Why do you run upstairs like that?'

'Oh--only because I wanted to come up for something.'

'Well, if you've got it, can't you come down again?'

'No, I can't very well.'

'Come, DEAR Avice. That's what you are, you know.'

There was no response.

'Well, if you won't, you won't!' he continued. 'I don't want to bother
you.' And Pierston went away.

He was stopping to look at the old-fashioned flowers under the garden
walls when he heard a voice behind him.

'Mr. Pierston--I wasn't angry with you. When you were gone I
thought--you might mistake me, and I felt I could do no less than come
and assure you of my friendship still.'

Turning he saw the blushing Avice immediately behind him.

'You are a g