come because I must be where you are, because I was mad to send
you away before, mad not to come to you before, to think I could live
without you, not to see that we two must be together; because you're
everything to me." He had come nearer to her now and stood by her. "Ever
since I went away I have seen you in this room, in that chair. I think
it was your ghost only that came to town." He laughed a moment. "I
wouldn't have the ghost. I didn't know why. Now I know. I wanted the you
that was here--the real you--as you had been on the night I went away.
So I've come back to you. We're ourselves here, Cecily. We Tristrams are
ourselves at Blent."

She had listened silently, her eyes on his. She seemed bewildered by the
sudden rush of his passion and the enraptured eagerness of his words
that made her own vehemence sound to her poor and thin. Pride had its
share in her protest, love was the sole spring of his intensity. Yet she
was puzzled by the victorious light in his eyes. What he said, what he
came to do, was such a surrender as she had never hoped from him; and he
was triumphant in surrendering!

The thought flashed through her mind, troubling her and for the time
hindering her joy in his confession. She did not trust him yet.

"I've had an offer made to me," he resumed, regaining his composure. "A
sort of political post. If I accept it I shall have to leave England for
a considerable time, almost immediately. That brought the thing to a
point." Again he laughed. "It's important to you too; because if you say
no to me to-night, you'll be rid of me for ever so long. Your life won't
be made impossible. I shouldn't come to Blent again."

"A post that would take you away?" she murmured.

"Yes. You'd be left here in peace. I've not come to blackmail you into
loving me, Cecily. Yes, you shall be left in peace to move the furniture
about." Glancing toward the table, he saw Mr Gainsborough's birthday
gift. He took it up, looked at it for a moment, and then replaced it.
His manner was involuntarily expressive. Even if she brought that sort
of thing to Blent----! He turned back at the sound of a little laugh
from Cecily and found her eyes sparkling.

"Father's birthday present, Harry," said she.

Delighted with her mirth, he came to her, holding out his hands. She
shook her head and leant back, looking at him.

"Sit as my mother did. You know. Yes, like that!" he cried.

She had obeyed him with a smile. Not to be denie