sky or something made me feel quite
queer; everything seemed changed in a way I couldn't understand. I
remember, I told an old gentleman I knew then--a friend of my poor
father's, he's been dead for five years, if not more--about how I felt,
and he looked at me and said something about fairyland; I don't know
what he meant, and I dare say I didn't explain myself properly. But, do
you know, for a moment or two I felt as if that little back street was
beautiful, and the noise of the children and the men in the public-house
seemed to fit in with the sky and become part of it. You know that old
saying about "treading on air" when one is glad! Well, I really felt
like that as I walked, not exactly like air, you know, but as if the
pavement was velvet or some very soft carpet. And then--I suppose it was
all my fancy--the air seemed to smell sweet, like the incense in
Catholic churches, and my breath came queer and catchy, as it does when
one gets very excited about anything. I felt altogether stranger than
I've ever felt before or since.'

Darnell stopped suddenly and looked up at his wife. She was watching him
with parted lips, with eager, wondering eyes.

'I hope I'm not tiring you, dear, with all this story about nothing. You
have had a worrying day with that stupid girl; hadn't you better go to
bed?'

'Oh, no, please, Edward. I'm not a bit tired now. I love to hear you
talk like that. Please go on.'

'Well, after I had walked a bit further, that queer sort of feeling
seemed to fade away. I said a bit further, and I really thought I had
been walking about five minutes, but I had looked at my watch just
before I got into that little street, and when I looked at it again it
was eleven o'clock. I must have done about eight miles. I could scarcely
believe my own eyes, and I thought my watch must have gone mad; but I
found out afterwards it was perfectly right. I couldn't make it out, and
I can't now; I assure you the time passed as if I walked up one side of
Edna Road and down the other. But there I was, right in the open
country, with a cool wind blowing on me from a wood, and the air full of
soft rustling sounds, and notes of birds from the bushes, and the
singing noise of a little brook that ran under the road. I was standing
on the bridge when I took out my watch and struck a wax light to see the
time; and it came upon me suddenly what a strange evening it had been.
It was all so different, you see, to what I had been