n will you come
again, and see what you have done for us?"

"I will come in the autumn," I answered.

"And you will come alone?" he continued.

"Yes, quite alone," I answered, "or with Minima only."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH.

BREAKING THE ICE.

Yet while I told Monsieur Laurentie seriously that I should go alone to
Ville-en-bois in the autumn, I did not altogether believe it. We often
speak in half-falsehoods, even to ourselves.

Dr. Senior's lawn, in which he takes great pride, slopes gently down to
the river, and ends with a stone parapet, over which it is exceedingly
pleasant to lean, and watch idly the flowing of the water, which seems
to loiter almost reluctantly before passing on to Westminster, and the
wharves and docks of the city. On the opposite bank grows a cluster of
cedars, with rich, dark-green branches, showing nearly black against the
pale blue of the sky. In our own lawn there stand three fine elms, a
colony for song-birds, under which the turf is carefully kept as smooth
and soft as velvet; and seats are set beneath their shadow, where one
can linger for hours, seeing the steamers and pleasure-boats passing to
and fro, and catching now and then a burst of music or laughter,
softened a little by the distance. My childhood had trained me to be
fond of living out-of-doors; and, when the spring came, I spent most of
my days under these elm-trees, in the fitful sunshine and showers of an
English April and May, such as I had never known before.

From one of these trees I could see very well any one who went in or out
through the gate. But it was not often that I cared to sit there, for
Martin came only in an evening, when his day's work was done, and even
then his coming was an uncertainty. Dr. John seldom missed visiting us,
but Martin was often absent for days. That made me watch all the more
eagerly for his coming, and feel how cruelly fast the time fled when he
was with us.

But one Sunday afternoon in April I chose my seat there, behind the tree
where I could see the gate, without being too plainly seen myself.
Martin had promised Dr. Senior he would come down to Fulham with Dr.
John that afternoon, if possible. The river was quieter than on other
days, and all the world seemed calmer. It was such a day as the one in
Sark, two years ago, when I slipped from the cliffs, and Tardif was
obliged to go across to Guernsey to fetch a doctor for me. I wondered if
Martin ever thought of it