iling, 'I thought you were very big
and very perfect. I had illusions. I wept often when I went home and
remembered that you never took the trouble to speak to me but once.'

"'I was a cub,' I said--'not selfish and brutal, but I didn't
understand school-girls. I never had any sisters, and I didn't know
what to say to very young girls. If I had imagined that you felt
hurt--'

"'Oh, I did--five years ago. Afterwards I laughed at the whole thing.'

"'Laughed?' I repeated, vaguely disappointed.

"'Why, of course. I was very easily hurt when I was a child. I think I
have outgrown it.'

"The soft curve of her sensitive mouth contradicted her.

"'Will you forgive me now?' I asked.

"'Yes. I had forgotten the whole thing until I met you an hour or so
ago.'

"There was something that had a ring not entirely genuine in this
speech. I noticed it, but forgot it the next moment.

"Presently she rose, touched her hair with the tip of one finger, and
walked to the door.

"'Good-night,' she said.

"'Good-night,' said I, opening the door for her to pass.

XIX

"The sea was a sheet of silver tinged with pink. The tremendous arch
of the sky was all shimmering and glimmering with the promise of the
sun. Already the mist above, flecked with clustered clouds, flushed
with rose color and dull gold. I heard the low splash of the waves
breaking and curling across the beach. A wandering breeze, fresh and
fragrant, blew the curtains of my window. There was the scent of sweet
bay in the room, and everywhere the subtle, nameless perfume of the
sea.

"When at last I stood upon the shore, the air and sea were all
a-glimmer in a rosy light, deepening to crimson in the zenith. Along
the beach I saw a little cove, shelving and all a-shine, where shallow
waves washed with a mellow sound. Fine as dusted gold the shingle
glowed, and the thin film of water rose, receded, crept up again a
little higher, and again flowed back, with the low hiss of snowy foam
and gilded bubbles breaking.

"I stood a little while quiet, my eyes upon the water, the invitation
of the ocean in my ears, vague and sweet as the murmur of a shell.
Then I looked at my bathing-suit and towels.

"'In we go!' said I, aloud. A second later the prophecy was
fulfilled.

"I swam far out to sea, and as I swam the waters all around me turned
to gold. The sun had risen.

"There is a fragrance in the sea at dawn that none can name.
Whitethorn a-bloom in May, sed