sy bogie!"

"Where?"

"There--by the stone--under the trees!"

Exasperated, he leaped the stream, and strode towards the beech clump.
Prank of the moonlight! Nothing! In and out of the boulders and thorn
trees, muttering and cursing, yet with a kind of terror, he rushed and
stumbled. Absurd! Silly! Then he went back to the apple tree. But she
was gone; he could hear a rustle, the grunting of the pigs, the sound of
a gate closing. Instead of her, only this old apple tree! He flung his
arms round the trunk. What a substitute for her soft body; the rough
moss against his face--what a substitute for her soft cheek; only the
scent, as of the woods, a little the same! And above him, and around,
the blossoms, more living, more moonlit than ever, seemed to glow and
breathe.

7

Descending from the train at Torquay station, Ashurst wandered
uncertainly along the front, for he did not know this particular queen
of English watering places. Having little sense of what he had on, he
was quite unconscious of being remarkable among its inhabitants, and
strode along in his rough Norfolk jacket, dusty boots, and battered
hat, without observing that people gazed at him rather blankly. He was
seeking a branch of his London bank, and having found one, found also
the first obstacle to his mood. Did he know anyone in Torquay? No. In
that case, if he would wire to his bank in London, they would be happy
to oblige him on receipt of the reply. That suspicious breath from the
matter-of-fact world somewhat tarnished the brightness of his visions.
But he sent the telegram.

Nearly opposite to the post office he saw a shop full of ladies'
garments, and examined the window with strange sensations. To have
to undertake the clothing of his rustic love was more than a little
disturbing. He went in. A young woman came forward; she had blue eyes
and a faintly puzzled forehead. Ashurst stared at her in silence.

"Yes, sir?"

"I want a dress for a young lady."

The young woman smiled. Ashurst frowned the peculiarity of his request
struck him with sudden force.

The young woman added hastily:

"What style would you like--something modish?"

"No. Simple."

"What figure would the young lady be?"

"I don't know; about two inches shorter than you, I should say."

"Could you give me her waist measurement?"

Megan's waist!

"Oh! anything usual!"

"Quite!"

While she was gone he stood disconsolately eyeing the models in the
window