logist hung his head. In any
case--Larry's active mind resumed its deliberations--it was quite
clearly his business to find Christian and to explain to her, as far
as was possible, how things stood.

He left the house. A garden-boy had seen Christian "going west the
avenue"; Larry collected Scandal and Steersman from the ash-pit, and
followed her "west the avenue." He walked slowly, noting how neglected
was the general aspect, how badly the avenue was in need of gravel,
remembering how in the old days, the bands of slingers had never
failed of ammunition, wondering if the Major were really as hard up as
he thought he was; wondering if they had all turned against him, and
if they would set Christian against him too. He came to the turn near
the river that led to the stepping stones, and stood, in deepening
depression, waiting, in the hope that she might come. It was seven
o'clock, the sun was setting, the sky was warming to its last
loveliness of rose and amber, and amethyst, colours with names almost
as beautiful as themselves. The long stretches of grass on either side
of the avenue were a fierce green, the brakes of bracken were burning
orange, the long shadows of the trees that fell across the roadway
were purple. The grove of yew trees, that hid the course of the river
from him, had the sharpness of a silhouette cut out of dark velvet.

"Not really black," Larry told himself, screwing up his eyes. He moved
on to the grass, and kneeling, framed with his hands as much as seemed
good to him. In a moment, in the intoxication of beauty, he had
forgotton his troubles; Cousin Dick, singing the swan-song of the
Irish landlords; Dr. Mangan, and his bewildering change of front; even
Christian, and her views as to his responsibility for the tragedy of
the morning, stood aside to make way for the absorbing problems of
colour and composition.

The hound puppies strolled on, side by side, heads up, and high-held
sterns, steering for nowhere in particular, oblivious as Larry of all
save the moment as it passed. A rush of rooks came like a tide across
the sky; they flew so low that the drive and rustle of their wings
scared the puppies and startled Larry. He stood up and watched the
multitudinous host swing westward to his own woods, and just then, a
couple of hundred yards ahead, at the turn where the avenue plunged
into the velvet gloom of the yew-trees, he saw Christian coming
towards him, alone, save for a retinue of dogs.