tame. And when the drive ended, Victoria was quite sorry to lose its
lithe softness.

XVI

Victoria very soon perceived that a crisis had come and gone. She had
been accustomed for a while before they went to Scotland to send about
once a week a basket of flowers and fruit from the famous gardens of
Duddon, with her "kind regards" to Mrs. Penfold. The basket was generally
brought into the hall, and Tatham would slip into it the new books or
magazines that seemed to him likely to attract the cottage party. He had
always taken a particular pleasure in the dispatch of the basket, and in
the contrivance of some new offering of which it might be the bearer.
Victoria, on the other hand, though usually a lavish giver, had taken but
a grudging part in the business, and merely to please her son.

On the day following the visit to the cottage, the basket, in obedience
to a standing order, lay in the hall as usual, heaped with a gorgeous
mass of the earliest chrysanthemums. Victoria observed it--with an
unfriendly eye--as she passed through the hall on her way to breakfast.

Harry came up behind her, and she turned to give him her morning kiss.

"Please don't send it," he said abruptly, pointing to the basket. "It
wouldn't be welcome."

She started, but made no reply. They went into breakfast. Victoria gave
the butler directions that the flowers should be sent to the Rectory.

After breakfast she followed Tatham into the library. He stood silent a
while by the window, looking out, his hands in his pockets; she beside
him, leaning her head against his arm.

"It's all over," he said at last; "we decided it last night."

"What's over, dear old boy?"

"I broke our compact--I couldn't help it--and we saw it couldn't go on."

"You--asked her again?"

He nodded. "It's no good. And now it only worries her that I should hang
about. We can't--even be friends. It's all my fault."

"You poor darling!" cried his mother indignantly. "She has played with
you abominably."

He flushed with anger.

"You mustn't say that--you mustn't think it, mother! All these weeks have
been--to the good. They haven't been the real thing. But I shall always
have them--to remember. Now it's done with."

Silence fell upon them again, while their minds went back over the
history of the preceding six months. Victoria felt very bitter. And so,
apparently, in his own way, did he. For he presently said, with a
vehemence which startled her: