y were come to the stile where he and Margaret had watched their
footprints on the snow.

"And Margaret was very sympathetic, you know," he went on. "Really, if
it hadn't been for her I should never have dared to tell you I loved
you. We talked about her and Richard...."

"Margaret does love him. She does," Pauline declared. "Only she will ask
herself questions all the time."

How she changed when she was speaking of Richard, thought Guy, a little
jealously. Why could she not say out clearly like that her love for him?

"You do love me this morning?" he asked. She was standing on the step of
the stile, and he offered his hand to help her down. "Won't you say, 'I
love you'?"

But only with her eyes could she tell him, and as, her finger-tips on
his, she jumped from the step, she was imponderable as the blush upon
her cheeks.

"In the Summer," said Guy, "you and I will be on the river together.
Will you be shy when Summer comes?"

"Monica says I'm not nearly shy enough."

"What on earth does Monica expect?"

They were under the trees of Wychford Abbey, and Guy told her of the
days he had spent here, thinking of her and of the hopelessness of her
loving him.

"I could not imagine you would love me. Why do you?"

She shook her head.

"One day we'll explore the inside of the house together. Shall we?"

"Oh no! I hate that place. Oh no, Guy, we'll never go there. Come
quickly. I hate that house. Margaret loves it and says I'm morbid to be
afraid. But I shudder when I see it."

They hurried through the dark plantation; and Guy, under the influence
of Pauline's positive terror, felt strangely as if, were he to look
behind, he would behold the house leering at them sardonically.

People, too, eyed them as they went down High Street and turned into
Rectory Lane. Guy had a sensation of all the inhabitants hurrying from
their business in the depths of their old houses to peer through the
casements at Pauline and him; and he was glad when they reached the
Rectory drive and escaped the silent commentary.

When she was at home again Pauline's spirits rose amazingly; and all
through lunch she was so excited that her mother and sisters were
continually repressing her noisiness. Guy, on the contrary, felt
woefully self-conscious, and was wondering all the while with how deep a
dislike the Rector was regarding him and if after lunch he would not
call him aside and solemnly expel him from the house. As they got up
from