ides and nestles along the hill, he stopped, his
hands seizing hers.

'How long?' he said, flushing, his light overcoat falling back from his
strong, well-made frame; 'from August to February--how long?'

No more! It was most natural, nay, inevitable. For the moment death
stood aside and love asserted itself. But this is no place to chronicle
what it said.

And he had hardly asked, and she had hardly yielded, before the same
misgiving, the same shrinking, seized on the lovers themselves. They
sped up the hill, they crept into the house, far apart. It was agreed
that neither of them should say a word.

* * * * *

But, with that extraordinarily quick perception that sometimes goes with
such a state as his, Elsmere had guessed the position of things before
he and Flaxman had been half an hour together. He took a boyish pleasure
in making his friend confess himself, and, when Flaxman left him, at
once sent for Catherine and told her.

Catherine, coming out afterwards, met Flaxman in the little tiled hall.
How she had aged and blanched! She stood a moment opposite to him, in
her plain long dress with its white collar and cuffs, her face working a
little.

'We are so glad!' she said, but almost with a sob--'God bless you!'

And, wringing his hand, she passed away from him, hiding her eyes, but
without a sound. When they met again she was quite self-contained and
bright, talking much both with him and Rose about the future.

And one little word of Rose's must be recorded here, for those who have
followed her through these four years. It was at night, when Robert,
with smiles, had driven them out of doors to look at the moon over the
bay, from the terrace just beyond the windows. They had been sitting on
the balustrade talking of Elsmere. In this nearness to death, Rose had
lost her mocking ways; but she was shy and difficult, and Flaxman felt
it all very strange, and did not venture to woo her much.

When, all at once, he felt her hand steal trembling, a little white
suppliant, into his, and her face against his shoulder.

'You won't--you won't ever be angry with me for making you wait like
that? It was impertinent--it was like a child playing tricks!'

* * * * *

Flaxman was deeply shocked by the change in Robert. He was terribly
emaciated. They could only talk at rare intervals in the day, and it was
clear that his nights were often one long struggl