h
other, talk that merely served as a defence. And behind this talk both
were painfully aware that the precious moments were slipping away, and
yet nothing could be done to stay them. It was only when the meal was
over, and there was nothing left for them to do but to rise and go, that
they stopped talking and looked at each other apprehensively.

"You are not going till the afternoon?" he questioned.

"Not till the afternoon," she answered, but she did not say whether she
was going early or late. She rose from the table and stood by it.

"The reason why I ask," he said, rising too, "is that I cannot be at
home for lunch, and afterwards there is hospital business with which I
am concerned."

May had as yet only vaguely decided on her train, though she knew the
trains by heart. She had now to fix it definitely, it was wrung from
her.

"I may not be able to get back in time to go with you to the station,
but I hope to be in time to meet you there, to see you off," he said;
and he added: "I hope to be in time," as if he doubted it nevertheless.

"You mustn't make a point of seeing me off," said May. "And don't you
think railway-stations are places which one avoids as much as possible?"
She asked the question a little tremulously and smiled, but did not look
at him.

"Ours is pretty bad," he said, without a smile. "But I hope it won't
have the effect of making you forget that there is any beauty in our old
city. I hope you will carry away with you some regret at parting--some
memory of us."

"Of course I shall," said May; and detecting the plaintiveness of her
own voice, she added: "I shall have to come and see it again--as I
said--perhaps ten years hence, when--when it will be different! It will
be most interesting."

He moved slowly away as if he was going out, and then stopped.

"I shall manage to be in time to see you off," he said, as if some
alteration in his plans suddenly occurred to him. "I shall manage it."

"You mustn't put off anything important for me," May called softly after
him. "In these days women don't expect to be looked after; we are
getting mighty independent," and there was much courage in her voice.

He wavered at the door. "You don't forbid me to come?" he questioned,
and he turned and looked at her.

"Of course not," said May, and she turned away quickly and went to the
window and looked out. "I hope I am not brazenly independent!" She added
this last sentence airily at the window a