er tumbled curls, when she was flushed from the
fire.

The dinner was a great success. Like a young husband, he carved. They
talked all the time with unflagging zest. Then he wiped the dishes she
had washed, and they went out down the fields. There was a bright little
brook that ran into a bog at the foot of a very steep bank. Here
they wandered, picking still a few marsh-marigolds and many big blue
forget-me-nots. Then she sat on the bank with her hands full of flowers,
mostly golden water-blobs. As she put her face down into the marigolds,
it was all overcast with a yellow shine.

"Your face is bright," he said, "like a transfiguration."

She looked at him, questioning. He laughed pleadingly to her, laying his
hands on hers. Then he kissed her fingers, then her face.

The world was all steeped in sunshine, and quite still, yet not asleep,
but quivering with a kind of expectancy.

"I have never seen anything more beautiful than this," he said. He held
her hand fast all the time.

"And the water singing to itself as it runs--do you love it?" She looked
at him full of love. His eyes were very dark, very bright.

"Don't you think it's a great day?" he asked.

She murmured her assent. She WAS happy, and he saw it.

"And our day--just between us," he said.

They lingered a little while. Then they stood up upon the sweet thyme,
and he looked down at her simply.

"Will you come?" he asked.

They went back to the house, hand in hand, in silence. The chickens came
scampering down the path to her. He locked the door, and they had the
little house to themselves.

He never forgot seeing her as she lay on the bed, when he was
unfastening his collar. First he saw only her beauty, and was blind
with it. She had the most beautiful body he had ever imagined. He stood
unable to move or speak, looking at her, his face half-smiling with
wonder. And then he wanted her, but as he went forward to her, her hands
lifted in a little pleading movement, and he looked at her face, and
stopped. Her big brown eyes were watching him, still and resigned and
loving; she lay as if she had given herself up to sacrifice: there was
her body for him; but the look at the back of her eyes, like a creature
awaiting immolation, arrested him, and all his blood fell back.

"You are sure you want me?" he asked, as if a cold shadow had come over
him.

"Yes, quite sure."

She was very quiet, very calm. She only realised that she was doing
someth