her part, did she mention to her husband the
incident of his walking in his sleep and the wild words he used. But to
forget it was equally impossible. Thus it lay buried deep within her
like a center of some unknown disease of which it was a mysterious
symptom, waiting to spread at the first favorable opportunity. She
prayed against it every night and morning: prayed that she might forget
it--that God would keep her husband safe from harm.

For in spite of much surface foolishness that many might have read as
weakness. Mrs. Bittacy had balance, sanity, and a fine deep faith. She
was greater than she knew. Her love for her husband and her God were
somehow one, an achievement only possible to a single-hearted nobility
of soul.

There followed a summer of great violence and beauty; of beauty, because
the refreshing rains at night prolonged the glory of the spring and
spread it all across July, keeping the foliage young and sweet; of
violence, because the winds that tore about the south of England brushed
the whole country into dancing movement. They swept the woods
magnificently, and kept them roaring with a perpetual grand voice. Their
deepest notes seemed never to leave the sky. They sang and shouted, and
torn leaves raced and fluttered through the air long before their
usually appointed time. Many a tree, after days of roaring and dancing,
fell exhausted to the ground. The cedar on the lawn gave up two limbs
that fell upon successive days, at the same hour too--just before dusk.
The wind often makes its most boisterous effort at that time, before it
drops with the sun, and these two huge branches lay in dark ruin
covering half the lawn. They spread across it and towards the house.
They left an ugly gaping space upon the tree, so that the Lebanon looked
unfinished, half destroyed, a monster shorn of its old-time comeliness
and splendor. Far more of the Forest was now visible than before; it
peered through the breach of the broken defenses. They could see from
the windows of the house now--especially from the drawing-room and
bedroom windows--straight out into the glades and depths beyond.

Mrs. Bittacy's niece and nephew, who were staying on a visit at the
time, enjoyed themselves immensely helping the gardeners carry off the
fragments. It took two days to do this, for Mr. Bittacy insisted on the
branches being moved entire. He would not allow them to be chopped;
also, he would not consent to their use as firewood. Und