. The heath was a blaze of gold, the cut hay smelt
sweetly in the fields, the sea sparkled like one vast sapphire, the
larks beneath the sun and the nightingales beneath the moon sang their
hearts out on Gunter's Hill, and all the land was full of life and sound
and perfume.

On one particularly beautiful evening, after partaking of a meal called
"high tea," Barbara, quite strong again now and blooming like the wild
rose upon her breast, set out alone upon a walk. Her errand was to the
cottage of that very fisherman whose child her father had baptised on
the night when her life trembled in the balance. Having accomplished
this she turned homewards, lost in reverie, events having happened at
the Rectory which gave her cause for thought. When she had gone a little
way some instinct led her to look up. About fifty yards away a man was
walking towards her to all appearance also lost in reverie. Even at that
distance and in the uncertain evening light she knew well enough that
this was Anthony. Her heart leapt at the sight of him and her cheeks
seemed to catch the hue of the wild rose on her bosom. Then she
straightened her dress a little and walked on.

In less than a minute they had met.

"I heard where you had gone and came to meet you," he said awkwardly.
"How well you are looking, Barbara, how well and----" he had meant to
add "beautiful," but his tongue stumbled at the word and what he said
was "brown."

"If I were an Indian I suppose I should thank you for the compliment,
Anthony, but as it is I don't know. But how well _you_ are looking, how
well and by comparison--fat."

Then they both laughed, and he explained at length how he had been able
to get home two days earlier than he expected; also that he had taken
his degree with even higher honours than he hoped.

"I am so glad," she said earnestly.

"And so am I; I mean glad that you are glad. You see, if it hadn't been
for you I should never have done so well. But because I thought you
would be glad, I worked like anything."

"You should have thought of what your father would feel, not
of--of--well, it has all ended as it should, so we needn't argue. How
is your brother George?" she went on, cutting short the answer that was
rising to his lips. "I suppose I should call him Captain Arnott now, for
I hear he has been promoted. We haven't seen him since he came home last
week, from some hospital in the South of England, they say."

Anthony's face grew serious