ter." Jon saw tears
running down her face, which she at once turned away from him. She
was so quiet about her loss that sometimes he had thought she didn't
feel it much. Now, as he looked at her, he felt how far he fell
short of the reserve power and dignity in both his father and his
mother. And, stealing up to her, he put his arm round her waist.
She kissed him swiftly, but with a sort of passion, and went out of
the room.

The studio, where they had been sorting and labelling, had once been
Holly's schoolroom, devoted to her silkworms, dried lavender, music, and
other forms of instruction. Now, at the end of July, despite its
northern and eastern aspects, a warm and slumberous air came in between
the long-faded lilac linen curtains. To redeem a little the departed
glory, as of a field that is golden and gone, clinging to a room which
its master has left, Irene had placed on the paint-stained table a bowl
of red roses. This, and Jolyon's favourite cat, who still clung to the
deserted habitat, were the pleasant spots in that dishevelled, sad
workroom. Jon, at the north window, sniffing air mysteriously scented
with warm strawberries, heard a car drive up. The lawyers again about
some nonsense! Why did that scent so make one ache? And where did it
come from--there were no strawberry beds on this side of the house.
Instinctively he took a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, and
wrote down some broken words. A warmth began spreading in his chest; he
rubbed the palms of his hands together. Presently he had jotted this:

"If I could make a little song A little song to soothe my heart! I'd make
it all of little things The plash of water, rub of wings, The puffing-off
of dandies crown, The hiss of raindrop spilling down, The purr of cat,
the trill of bird, And ev'ry whispering I've heard From willy wind in
leaves and grass, And all the distant drones that pass. A song as tender
and as light As flower, or butterfly in flight; And when I saw it
opening, I'd let it fly and sing!"

He was still muttering it over to himself at the window, when he heard
his name called, and, turning round, saw Fleur. At that amazing
apparition, he made at first no movement and no sound, while her clear
vivid glance ravished his heart. Then he went forward to the table,
saying, "How nice of you to come!" and saw her flinch as if he had thrown
something at her.

"I asked for you," she said, "and they showed me up here. But I c