clouds now and again obscured the stars: the world seemed full of a
great peace. Mavis waited to satisfy herself that she had not awakened
anyone in the house; she then struck out in the direction of
Pennington. It was only on the rarest occasions that Mavis could visit
her boy's grave, when she had to employ the greatest circumspection to
avoid being seen. Although since her translation from insignificance to
affluence and local importance, she was remarkably well known in and
about Melkbridge, and although her lightest acts were subjects of
common gossip, she could not let Christmas go by without taking the
risk that a visit to the churchyard at Pennington would entail. Her
greatest fear of detection was in going through the town, but she kept
well under the shadows of the town hall side of the market-place, so
that the policeman, who was there on duty, walking-stick in hand, would
not see her. Once in the comparative security of the Pennington road,
she hurried past dark inanimate cottages and farmsteads, whilst
overhead familiar constellations sprawled in a now clear sky. Several
times on her progress, she fancied that she heard footsteps striking
the hard, firm road behind her, but, whenever she stopped to listen,
she could not hear a sound. Just as she reached the brewery at
Pennington, clouds obscured the stars; she had some difficulty in
picking her way in the darkness. When she got to the churchyard gate,
happily unlocked, it was still so dark that she had to light matches in
order to avoid stumbling on the graves. Even with the help of matches,
it was as much as she could do to find her way to the plain white stone
on which only the initials of her boy and the dates of his birth and
death were recorded. When she got to the grave, the wind had blown out
so many of her matches that she had only four left. One of these she
lit in order to place the holly cross on the grave; she had just time
to put it where she wanted it to lie, when the match went out. She
knelt on the ground, while her heart went out to what was lying so many
feet beneath.

"Oh, my dear! my dear!" she cried, but the sound of her own voice
startled her into silence. The cry of her heart was:

"What is all that I have worth without you! How gladly would I give up
my all, if only I could hold you warm and breathing in my arms!"

Then she fell to thinking what a joyous time would be hers at this
season of the year, were her boy alive and if they