he idled in the beautiful August twilight near the
garden-front of the house, catching faintly the conversation of Mrs
Nixon and her niece as it floated through the open window of the
kitchen, round the corner, together with quiet soothing sounds of
washing-up, he heard a sudden noise in the garden-porch, and turned
swiftly. His father stood there. Both of them were off guard. Their
eyes met.

"Had your tea?" Darius asked, in an unnatural tone.

"Yes," said Edwin.

Darius, having saved his face, hurried into the house, and Edwin moved
down the garden, with heart sensibly beating. The encounter renewed his
agitation.

And at the corner of the garden, over the hedge, which had been
repaired, Janet entrapped him. She seemed to have sprung out of the
ground. He could not avoid greeting her, and in order to do so he had
to dominate himself by force. She was in white. She appeared always to
wear white on fine summer days. Her smile was exquisitely benignant.

"So you're installed?" she began.

They talked of the removal, she asking questions and commenting, and he
giving brief replies.

"I'm all alone to-night," she said, in a pause, "except for Alicia.
Father and mother and the boys are gone to a fete at Longshaw."

"And Miss Lessways?" he inquired self-consciously.

"Oh! She's gone," said Janet. "She's gone back to London. Went
yesterday."

"Rather sudden, isn't it?"

"Well, she had to go."

"Does she live in London?" Edwin asked, with an air of indifference.

"She does just now."

"I only ask because I thought from something she said she came from
Turnhill way."

"Her people do," said Janet. "Yes, you may say she's a Turnhill girl."

"She seems very fond of poetry," said Edwin.

"You've noticed it!" Janet's face illuminated the dark. "You should
hear her recite!"

"Recites, does she?"

"You'd have heard her that night you were here. But when she knew you
were coming, she made us all promise not to ask her."

"Really!" said Edwin. "But why? She didn't know me. She'd never seen
me."

"Oh! She might have just seen you in the street. In fact I believe she
had. But that wasn't the reason," Janet laughed. "It was just that you
were a stranger. She's very sensitive, you know."

"Ye-es," he admitted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THREE.

He took leave of Janet, somehow, and went for a walk up to Toft End,
where the wind blows