husiastic, but the boys only
laughed at her, in this role, and nobody was apparently in the least
gratified (except those imps of boys!).

For a long time, Mrs. Fullerton seemed to be oblivious of her daughter's
efforts, but one day, when they had been talking about Algitha, the
mother said: "Your father and I now look to you, Hadria. I do think that
you are beginning to feel a little what your duty is. If _you_ also
were to turn deserter in our old age, I think it would kill us."

Hadria felt a thrill of horror. The network of Fate seemed to be fast
closing round her. The temporary was to become fixed. She must act all
her days according to the conviction of others, or her parents would die
of grief!

When she went to the hills that afternoon, she felt as if she must walk
on and on into the dreamy distance, away from all these toils and
claims, away into the unknown world and never return. But, alas! the
night descended and return she must. These wild impulses could never be
followed.

The day had been peculiarly harassing and cut up; some neighbours had
been to afternoon tea and tennis, and the sight of their faces and the
sound of their talk had caused, in Hadria, an unutterable depression.
The light, conventional phrases rang in her ears still, the expression
of the faces haunted her, and into her heart crept a chill that benumbed
every wish and hope and faith that she had ever cherished.

She sat up late into the night. Since freedom and solitude could not be
had by day, the nights were often her sole opportunity. At such times
she would work out her musical ideas, which in the dead silence of the
house were brought forth plentifully. These, from her point of view,
were the fruitful hours of the twenty-four. Thoughts would throng the
darkness like swarms of living things.

Hadria's mood found expression to-night in a singular and most
melancholy composition. She called it _Futility_.

It was unlike anything that she had ever done before, and she felt that
it shewed an access of musical power.

She dreamt an absurd dream: That she was herself one of those girls with
the high pattering accents, playing tennis without ceasing and with
apparent cheerfulness; talking just as they had talked, and about just
the same things; and all the time, a vast circle of shadowy forms stood
watching, beckoning, and exhorting and warning, and turning away, at
last, in sorrowful contempt, because she preferred to spend her you