erhaps just a little straight in the
shoulder for coming down the hill! And in the midst of his examination
he found himself staring at his niece. What breeding the child showed,
with her delicate arched brows, little ears, and fine, close nostrils;
and the way she moved--so sure and springy. She was too pretty to suffer!
A shame! If she hadn't been so pretty that young fellow wouldn't have
fallen in love with her. If she weren't so pretty--that husband of hers
wouldn't--! And the Colonel dropped his gaze, startled by the discovery
he had stumbled on. If she hadn't been so pretty! Was that the meaning
of it all? The cynicism of his own reflection struck him between wind and
water. And yet something in himself seemed to confirm it somehow. What
then? Was he to let them tear her in two between them, destroying her,
because she was so pretty? And somehow this discovery of his--that
passion springs from worship of beauty and warmth, of form and
colour--disturbed him horribly, for he had no habit of philosophy. The
thought seemed to him strangely crude, even immoral. That she should be
thus between two ravening desires--a bird between two hawks, a fruit
between two mouths! It was a way of looking at things that had never
before occurred to him. The idea of a husband clutching at his wife, the
idea of that young man who looked so gentle, swooping down on her; and
the idea that if she faded, lost her looks, went off, their greed,
indeed, any man's, would die away--all these horrible ideas hurt him the
more for the remarkable suddenness with which they had come to him. A
tragic business! Dolly had said so. Queer and quick--were women! But
his resolution that the day was to be jolly soon recurred to him, and he
hastily resumed inspection of his fancy. Perhaps they ought to have a
ten-pound note on it, and they had better get back to the Stand! And as
they went the Colonel saw, standing beneath a tree at a little distance,
a young man that he could have sworn was Lennan. Not likely for an
artist chap to be down here! But it WAS undoubtedly young Lennan,
brushed-up, in a top-hat. Fortunately, however, his face was not turned
in their direction. He said nothing to Olive, not wishing--especially
after those unpleasant thoughts--to take responsibility, and he kept her
moving towards the gate, congratulating himself that his eyes had been so
sharp. In the crush there he was separated from her a little, but she
was