ago since William and I parted."

"Is he still alive?"

"Oh yes, he is still alive, but I have never seen him and he must be
wonderfully altered. Sometimes I think of all the days that have gone by
since we parted. It seems so strange to think of our lives being able to
go on, when once it seemed to both of us that life could not go on at
all if we were not together. It seems so strange to think of him eating
his lunch somewhere at the same time that somewhere else I am eating my
lunch. Who knows if he ever thinks of me, who knows indeed?"

"If anything happened to prevent our marriage," began Pauline,
thoughtfully, and then was silent.

Miss Verney opened wide her pale-blue eyes.

"And what could happen?" she asked, grandly.

"I've no business to imagine such a thing, have I?"

"None whatever," said Miss Verney, decidedly.

But had Miss Verney's love-affair been complicated by anything more than
merely natural difficulties? Guy's debts and unsuccess were nothing in
comparison with other elements of disaccord ... and then Pauline pulled
herself up from brooding and resolutely forced her mind to contemplate a
happy Summer. Had she not just now been congratulating herself upon the
disappearance of all worries in this sea air?

The time at Scarborough drew to a close, and about a week before her
birthday came the news of Richard's arrival from India. She and Miss
Verney packed up and were home in Wychford two days before they were
expected.

"Richard, how lovely to see you again!" Pauline cried. "And, oh,
Richard, I'm sure you've grown. Don't you think he has grown?" she
demanded of everybody. "Richard, how clever of you to grow when you're
twenty-seven."

It was really like old times to go babbling on like this, while Richard
sat and smiled encouragingly and spoke never a word.

"Coming for a stroll?" he asked.

"Oh, but I ought to see Guy first," she said. "Richard, I hope you like
Guy."

He nodded.

"Do you think he looks like a poet?"

"Never saw a poet before," said Richard.

"Oh, but like your idea of a poet?"

"Never thought much about poets," said Richard. "So you aren't coming
for a stroll?"

"I will to-morrow, but I must spend the sunset with Guy."

Guy was waiting for her by the paddock, and they floated down-stream out
of reach of people. In their own peninsula they kissed away the absence
of twenty-two days.

"You look much better," said Guy, critically.

"I'm perfectly well."