m with ... well ... you see, really all his friends have been
unsympathetic about her."

"I expect they've every right to be," said Pauline.

"I do think you're unreasonable. I'm only going away for a night."

"Oh, go, go, go!" she cried, and, pulling herself free of his caress,
she left him by the margin of the stream disconsolate and perplexed.

Pauline, when Guy had gone to London with his friend, began to fret
herself with the fear that he would not come back, and she was very
remorseful at the thought that if he did not she would be responsible.
She half expected to get a letter next day to tell her of his
determination to remain in town for good, and when no letter came she
exaggerated still more all her fears and longed to send him a telegram
to ask if he had arrived safely, railing at herself for having let him
leave her without knowing where he was going to stay. By the following
afternoon all the jealousy of Michael had been swallowed up in a
passionate desire for Guy's return, and when about three o'clock she saw
him coming through the wicket in the high gray wall her heart beat fast
with relief. She said not a word about Guy's journey, nor did she even
ask if his friend had come back with him. She cared for nothing but to
show by her tenderness how penitent she was for that yesterday which had
torn such a rent in the perfection of their love. Guy was visibly much
relieved to find that her jealous fit had passed away, and when she
asked for an account of his journey he gave it to her most eagerly.

"Yesterday was rather tragic," he said. "We went to see this Lily Haden
to whom Michael had engaged himself, and ... well ... it's impossible to
explain to you what happened, but it was all very horrible and rather
like a scene in a French play. Anyhow, Michael is cured of that fancy,
and now he talks of going out of England and even of becoming a monk.
These extraordinary religious fads that succeed violent emotion of an
utterly different kind! Personally I don't think the monkish phase will
survive the disillusionment that's just as much bound to happen in
religion as it was bound to happen over that girl."

"What was she like?" Pauline asked, resolving to appear interested in
Michael.

"I never saw her," said Guy. "The tragedy took place 'off' in the
Aristotelian manner."

"Oh, Guy, don't use such long words."

"Dear little thing, I wish you wouldn't ask any more about this girl.
She is something quite