rry me that I look down on every one else. I only long to tell them
so. When may I tell my mother, Rachel? She is coming to London this
week."

"You have the pertinacity of a fly. You always come back to the same
point. I am beginning to be rather bored with your marriage. You can't
talk of anything else."

"I can't think about anything else."

He drew her cheek against his. He was an ingratiating creature.

"Neither can I," she whispered.

And that was all Rachel ever said of all she meant to say about Mr.
Tristram.

* * * * *

A yellow fog. It made rings round the shaded electric lamp by which
Rachel was reading. The fire burned tawny and blurred. Even her red gown
looked dim. Hugh came in.

"What are you reading?" he said, sitting down by her.

He did not want to know, but if you are reading a book on another
person's knee you cannot be a very long way off. He glanced with feigned
interest at the open page, stooping a little, for he was short-sighted
now and then--at least now.

Rachel took the opportunity to look at him. You can't really look at a
person when he is looking at you. Hugh was very handsome, especially
side face, and he knew it; but he was not sure whether Rachel thought
so.

He read mechanically:

"Take back your vows.
Elsewhere you trimmed and taught these lamps to burn;
You bring them stale and dim to serve my turn.
You lit those candles in another shrine,
Guttered and cold you offer them on mine.
Take back your vows."

A shadow fell across Hugh's mind. Rachel saw it fall.

"You do not think that of me, Rachel," he said, pointing to the verse.
It was the first time he had alluded to that halting confession which
had remained branded on the minds of both.

He glanced up at her, and she suffered him for a moment to look through
her clear eyes into her soul.

"I never thought that of you," she said, with difficulty. "I am so
foolish that I believe the candles are lit now for the first time. I am
so foolish that I believe you love me nearly as much as I love you."

"It is a dream," said Hugh, passionately, and he fell on his knees, and
hid his white face against her knee. "It is a dream. I shall wake, and
find you never cared for me."

She sat for a moment stunned by the violence of his emotion, which was
shaking him from head to foot. Then she drew him into her trembling
arms, and held his head against her breast.