down almost dreading
to see Megan; and yet, when not she but Mrs. Narracombe brought in his
breakfast, he felt vexed and disappointed. The woman's quick eye and
snaky neck seemed to have a new alacrity this morning. Had she noticed?

"So you an' the moon went walkin' last night, Mr. Ashurst! Did ye have
your supper anywheres?"

Ashurst shook his head.

"We kept it for you, but I suppose you was too busy in your brain to
think o' such a thing as that?"

Was she mocking him, in that voice of hers, which still kept some Welsh
crispness against the invading burr of the West Country? If she knew!
And at that moment he thought: 'No, no; I'll clear out. I won't put
myself in such a beastly false position.'

But, after breakfast, the longing to see Megan began and increased with
every minute, together with fear lest something should have been said to
her which had spoiled everything. Sinister that she had not appeared,
not given him even a glimpse of her! And the love poem, whose
manufacture had been so important and absorbing yesterday afternoon under
the apple trees, now seemed so paltry that he tore it up and rolled it
into pipe spills. What had he known of love, till she seized his hand
and kissed it! And now--what did he not know? But to write of it seemed
mere insipidity! He went up to his bedroom to get a book, and his heart
began to beat violently, for she was in there making the bed. He stood
in the doorway watching; and suddenly, with turbulent joy, he saw her
stoop and kiss his pillow, just at the hollow made by his head last
night.

How let her know he had seen that pretty act of devotion? And yet, if
she heard him stealing away, it would be even worse. She took the pillow
up, holding it as if reluctant to shake out the impress of his cheek,
dropped it, and turned round.

"Megan!"

She put her hands up to her cheeks, but her eyes seemed to look right
into him. He had never before realised the depth and purity and touching
faithfulness in those dew-bright eyes, and he stammered:

"It was sweet of you to wait up for me last night."

She still said nothing, and he stammered on:

"I was wandering about on the moor; it was such a jolly night. I--I've
just come up for a book."

Then, the kiss he had seen her give the pillow afflicted him with sudden
headiness, and he went up to her. Touching her eyes with his lips, he
thought with queer excitement: 'I've done it! Yesterday all was
sudden