, that she
without any effort had captured such a being, flattered her to an
extreme degree. She was glorious with pride. She leaned back in the
carriage negligently, affecting an absolute calm. She armed herself in
her virginity. Not George Cannon himself could have guessed that only by
a miracle of self-control did she prevent her hand from seeking his
beneath the light rug that covered their knees! She intimidated George
Cannon in that hour, and the while her heart burned with shame at the
secret violence of her feelings. She thought: "This must be love. This
is love!" And yet her conscience inarticulately accused her of
obliquity. But she did not care, and she would not reflect. She thought
that she wilfully, perversely, refused to reflect; but in reality she
was quite helpless.

Under the still and feverish night the landau rolled slowly along
between the invisible murmuring sea and the lighted facades of Hove.
Occasionally other carriages, containing other couples, approached, were
plain for a moment, and dissolved away.

"So she thinks the engagement ought to be short?" said George Cannon.

"Yes."

"So do I!" he pronounced with emphasis.

Hilda desired to ask him: "How short?" But she could not. She could not
bring herself to put the question. She was too proud. By a short
engagement, did he mean six months, three months, a month? Dared she
hope that he meant... a month? This was a thought buried in the deepest
fastness of her soul, a thought that she would have perished in order
not to expose; but it existed.

"I think I should like to go back now," she breathed timidly, before
they were beyond Hove. It was not a request to be ignored. The carriage
turned. She felt relief. The sensation of being alive had been too acute
to be borne, and it was now a little eased. She knew that her destiny
was irrevocable, that nothing could prevent her from being George
Cannon's. Whether the destiny was evil or good did not paramountly
interest her. But she wanted to rush forward into the arms of fate and
know her fate. She dreamed only of the union.

* * * * *

BOOK V
HER DELIVERANCE

CHAPTER I
LOUISA UNCONTROLLED

I

Hilda, after a long railway journey, was bathing her face, arms, and
neck at the large double washstand in the large double bedroom on the
second floor of No. 59 Preston Street. At the back of the washstand was
an unused door which gave into a small bed