ely silent; only by a great effort restraining his tongue
from mordant allusions to that 'prancing, red-haired fellow,' as he
secretly called the champion of lost causes. In fact, his sensations
there and since had been a revelation, or would have teen if he could
have stood apart to see them. True, he had gone about next day with his
usual cool, off-hand manner, because one naturally did not let people
see, but it was with such an inner aching and rage of want and jealousy
as to really merit pity. Men of his physically big, rather rushing,
type, are the last to possess their souls in patience. Walking home
after the Ball he had determined to follow her down to the sea, where she
had said, so maliciously; that she was going. After a second almost
sleepless night he had no longer any hesitation. He must see her! After
all, a man might go to his own 'place' with impunity; he did not care if
it were a pointed thing to do.... Pointed! The more pointed the better!
There was beginning to be roused in him an ugly stubbornness of male
determination. She should not escape him!

But now that he was walking at her side, all that determination and
assurance melted to perplexed humility. He marched along by his horse
with his head down, just feeling the ache of being so close to her and
yet so far; angry with his own silence and awkwardness, almost angry with
her for her loveliness, and the pain it made him suffer. When they
reached the house, and she left him at the stable-yard, saying she was
going to get some flowers, he jerked the beast's bridle and swore at it
for its slowness in entering the stable. He, was terrified that she
would be gone before he could get into the garden; yet half afraid of
finding her there. But she was still plucking carnations by the box
hedge which led to the conservatories. And as she rose from gathering
those blossoms, before he knew what he was doing, Harbinger had thrown
his arm around her, held her as in a vice, kissed her unmercifully.

She seemed to offer no resistance, her smooth cheeks growing warmer and
warmer, even her lips passive; but suddenly he recoiled, and his heart
stood still at his own outrageous daring. What had he done? He saw her
leaning back almost buried in the clipped box hedge, and heard her say
with a sort of faint mockery: "Well!"

He would have flung himself down on his knees to ask for pardon but for
the thought that someone might come. He muttered hoarse