our hours on end? Was it eternally her lot to come to the end
of things, before they had properly begun? It seemed, always, as if she
alone must be pressing forward, without rest. Here, on the second of
these days of love and sunshine, she saw, with absolute clearness, that
neither this nor any other day had anything extraordinary to give her;
and sitting silent at dinner, under an arbour of highly-coloured
creeper, she was overcome by such a laming discouragement, that she
laid her knife and fork down, and could eat no more.

Maurice, watching her across the table, believed that she was
over-tired, and filled up her glass with wine.

But she did not yield without a struggle. And it was not merely
rebellion against the defects of her own nature, which prompted her.
The prospect of the coming months filled her with dismay. When this
last brief spell of pleasure was over, there was nothing left, to which
she could look forward. The approaching winter stretched before her
like a starless night; she was afraid to let her mind dwell on it. What
was she to do?--what was to become of her, when the short dark days
came down again, and shut her in? The thought of it almost drove her
mad. Desperate with fear, she shut her eyes and went blindly forward,
determined to extract every particle of pleasure, or, at least, of
oblivion, that the present offered.

Under these circumstances, the poor human element in their relations
became once again, and more than ever before, the pivot on which their
lives turned. Louise aimed deliberately at bringing this about.
Further, she did what she had never yet done: she brought to bear on
their intercourse all her own hardwon knowledge, and all her arts. She
drew from her store of experience those trifling, yet weighty details,
which, once she has learned them, a woman never forgets. And, in
addition to this, she took advantage of the circumstances in which they
found themselves, utilising to the full the stimulus of strange times
and places: she fired the excitement that lurked in surreptitious
embrace and surrender, under all the dangers of a possible surprise.
She was perverse and capricious; she would turn away from him till she
reduced him to despair; then to yield suddenly, with a completeness
that threatened to undo them both. Her devices were never-ending. Not
that they were necessary: for he was helpless in her hands when she
assumed the mastery. But she could not afford to omit one of