or ever; it
is only that we must wait for our spring."

"Halcyone," he said, while his proud eyes again filled with tears, "you
have the absolute worship of my being. You have taught me, as ever, the
truth. Go, my darling, and I will do as you wish, and will try to make
myself more worthy of your noble soul. God keep you until we meet
again."

She did not speak; she only looked at him with a divine look of love and
faith, and he watched her as she went down, it seemed, out of the very
heart of the setting sun and into the shadows beneath, and so
disappeared from his adoring eyes in a peaceful purple twilight.

Then he returned to the old stone seat and leaning forward gazed out
over the exquisite scene.

A great hush had fallen upon his torn heart. And thus he stayed
motionless until the night fell.

CHAPTER XXXII

Mrs. Cricklander awaited Mr. Hanbury-Green's coming quite impatiently.
She felt she wanted a little warmth and humanity after the chilling week
she had passed with her betrothed. What she meant to do with this latter
she had not yet made up her mind--the justice of an affair never
bothered her, and her complete unconsciousness of having committed any
wrong often averted her action's immediate consequence. That Mr.
Hanbury-Green should suffer, or that John Derringham should suffer,
mattered to her not one jot. She was really and truly under the
impression that only her personal comfort, pleasure and feelings were of
any importance in the world. Her brain always guarded these things, and,
when they were not in any jeopardy or fear of being inconvenienced, then
she was capable of numbers of kind and generous actions. And, if she had
ever been reproached about her colossal selfishness, she would have
looked up astonished, and replied:

"Well, who is nearer to oneself than oneself?"

Common sense like this is not to be controverted.

It would only be when she was growing old that she would feel the
loneliness of knowing that, apart from the passion which she had
inspired because of her sex and her beauty, not a single human being had
ever loved her. For the present she was Venus Victrix, a glorious
creature, the desired of men--and that was enough.

Mr. Hanbury-Green was a forceful person, unhampered by any of the
instincts of a gentleman, and therefore armed with a number of weapons
for winning his battles. He had determined to rise to the top upon the
wave of class hatred which he had been c