lared herself willing
not only to abandon her avowed ideal of life, but to defy the world's
opinion by becoming his wife without forms of mutual bondage--she was
the woman he had imagined, and by her side he would go cheerfully on
his way as a married man. Legally married; the proposal of free union
was to be a test only. Loving her as he had never thought to love,
there still remained with him so much of the temper in which he first
wooed her that he could be satisfied with nothing short of
unconditional surrender. Delighting in her independence of mind, he
still desired to see her in complete subjugation to him, to inspire her
with unreflecting passion. Tame consent to matrimony was an everyday
experience. Agnes Brissenden, he felt sure, would marry him whenever he
chose to ask her--and would make one of the best wives conceivable. But
of Rhoda Nunn he expected and demanded more than this. She must rise
far above the level of ordinary intelligent women. She must manifest an
absolute confidence in him--that was the true significance of his
present motives. The censures and suspicions which she had not scrupled
to confess in plain words must linger in no corner of her mind.

His heart throbbed with impatience for her coming. Come she would; it
was not in Rhoda's nature to play tricks; if she had not meant to meet
him she would have said so resolutely, as last night.

At a few minutes past the hour he looked landward, and saw her figure
against the golden sky. She came down from the sandbank very slowly,
with careless, loitering steps. He moved but a little way to meet her,
and then stood still. He had done his part; it was now hers to forego
female privileges, to obey the constraint of love. The western
afterglow touched her features, heightening the beauty Everard had
learnt to see in them. Still she loitered, stooping to pick up a piece
of seaweed; but still he kept his place, motionless, and she came
nearer.

'Did you see the light of sunset on the mountains?'

'Yes,' he replied.

'There has been no such evening since I came.'

'And you wanted to sit at home with a book. That was no close for a
perfect day.'

'I found a letter from your cousin. She was with her friends the
Goodalls yesterday.'

'The Goodalls--I used to know them.'

'Yes.'

The word was uttered with significance. Everard understood the
allusion, but did not care to show that he did.

'How does Mary get on without you?'

'There's no di