heir visitor entered the
hall.

Gudrun was flushed with the rain, her hair was blown in loose little
curls, she was like a flower just opened in the rain, the heart of the
blossom just newly visible, seeming to emit a warmth of retained
sunshine. Gerald winced in spirit, seeing her so beautiful and unknown.
She was wearing a soft blue dress, and her stockings were of dark red.

Winifred advanced with odd, stately formality.

'We are so glad you've come back,' she said. 'These are your flowers.'
She presented the bouquet.

'Mine!' cried Gudrun. She was suspended for a moment, then a vivid
flush went over her, she was as if blinded for a moment with a flame of
pleasure. Then her eyes, strange and flaming, lifted and looked at the
father, and at Gerald. And again Gerald shrank in spirit, as if it
would be more than he could bear, as her hot, exposed eyes rested on
him. There was something so revealed, she was revealed beyond bearing,
to his eyes. He turned his face aside. And he felt he would not be able
to avert her. And he writhed under the imprisonment.

Gudrun put her face into the flowers.

'But how beautiful they are!' she said, in a muffled voice. Then, with
a strange, suddenly revealed passion, she stooped and kissed Winifred.

Mr Crich went forward with his hand held out to her.

'I was afraid you were going to run away from us,' he said, playfully.

Gudrun looked up at him with a luminous, roguish, unknown face.

'Really!' she replied. 'No, I didn't want to stay in London.' Her voice
seemed to imply that she was glad to get back to Shortlands, her tone
was warm and subtly caressing.

'That is a good thing,' smiled the father. 'You see you are very
welcome here among us.'

Gudrun only looked into his face with dark-blue, warm, shy eyes. She
was unconsciously carried away by her own power.

'And you look as if you came home in every possible triumph,' Mr Crich
continued, holding her hand.

'No,' she said, glowing strangely. 'I haven't had any triumph till I
came here.'

'Ah, come, come! We're not going to hear any of those tales. Haven't we
read notices in the newspaper, Gerald?'

'You came off pretty well,' said Gerald to her, shaking hands. 'Did you
sell anything?'

'No,' she said, 'not much.'

'Just as well,' he said.

She wondered what he meant. But she was all aglow with her reception,
carried away by this little flattering ceremonial on her behalf.

'Winifred,' said the father, 'have