ore effectually united father and son, it abolished her
position as intermediary between the two.

Recalling the incident jealousy moved her now, so that she gathered up
the reins hastily and touched the horse with the whip. It sprang
forward, danced and behaved, before settling down to the swinging trot
which, in so handsome a fashion, ate up the blond road crossing the
brown expanse of moor.

Damaris was surprised and distressed by the vehemence of her own emotion.
That her jealousy was retrospective, and belonged to a past now over and
done with, she admitted. Yet, thinking of her father's demand to see
Lesbia, how amazingly deep it went, how profound, and lasting is the
empire of "feeling in _that_ way"--so she put it, falling back on her
phrase of nearly three years ago, first coined at St. Augustin.

And this was where Carteret came in.--For he alone, of all men, had made
her, Damaris, ever consciously "feel in _that_ way."--A fact of immense
significance surely, could she but grasp the full, the inner meaning of
it--and one which entered vitally into the matter of "beginning again."
Therefore, so she argued, the proposed simplifying, broadening,
democratizing of her outlook must cover--amongst how much else!--the
whole astonishing business of "feeling in _that_ way."

She shrank from the conclusion as unwelcome. The question of sex was
still distasteful to her. But she bade herself, sternly, not to shrink.
For without some reasoned comprehension of it--as now dawned on her--the
ways of human beings, of animals, of plants and, so some say, even of
minerals, are unintelligible, arbitrary, and nonsensical. It is the push
of life itself, essential, fundamental, which makes us "feel in _that_
way"--the push of spirit yearning to be clothed upon with flesh, made
visible and given its chance to enter the earthly arena, to play an
individual part in the beautiful, terrible earthly scene. Therefore she
must neglect it, reject it no longer. It had to be met and understood, if
she would graduate in the school of reality; and in what other possible
school is it worth while to graduate?

Reaching which climax in her argument, the selfishness of her recent
behaviour became humiliatingly patent to her. From the whole household,
but especially from Carteret and Aunt Felicia, she had taken all and
given nothing in return. She had added to their grief, their anxieties,
by her silence, her apathy, her whimsies.

"Patch," she