counted, becoming
more agitated as she recalled the list. Denham went on quickly in
advance of her, and she heard him shout that he had found it before she
reached the seat. In order to make sure that all was safe she spread the
contents on her knee. It was a queer collection, Denham thought, gazing
with the deepest interest. Loose gold coins were tangled in a narrow
strip of lace; there were letters which somehow suggested the extreme of
intimacy; there were two or three keys, and lists of commissions against
which crosses were set at intervals. But she did not seem satisfied
until she had made sure of a certain paper so folded that Denham could
not judge what it contained. In her relief and gratitude she began at
once to say that she had been thinking over what Denham had told her of
his plans.

He cut her short. "Don't let's discuss that dreary business."

"But I thought--"

"It's a dreary business. I ought never to have bothered you--"

"Have you decided, then?"

He made an impatient sound. "It's not a thing that matters."

She could only say rather flatly, "Oh!"

"I mean it matters to me, but it matters to no one else. Anyhow," he
continued, more amiably, "I see no reason why you should be bothered
with other people's nuisances."

She supposed that she had let him see too clearly her weariness of this
side of life.

"I'm afraid I've been absent-minded," she began, remembering how often
William had brought this charge against her.

"You have a good deal to make you absent-minded," he replied.

"Yes," she replied, flushing. "No," she contradicted herself. "Nothing
particular, I mean. But I was thinking about plants. I was enjoying
myself. In fact, I've seldom enjoyed an afternoon more. But I want to
hear what you've settled, if you don't mind telling me."

"Oh, it's all settled," he replied. "I'm going to this infernal cottage
to write a worthless book."

"How I envy you," she replied, with the utmost sincerity.

"Well, cottages are to be had for fifteen shillings a week."

"Cottages are to be had--yes," she replied. "The question is--" She
checked herself. "Two rooms are all I should want," she continued, with
a curious sigh; "one for eating, one for sleeping. Oh, but I should like
another, a large one at the top, and a little garden where one could
grow flowers. A path--so--down to a river, or up to a wood, and the sea
not very far off, so that one could hear the waves at night. Ships just
vanis