in the middle of the
summer-house floor. It was half-dark; the morning saal lay in a hot
sultry twilight. The air in the summer-house was heavy and damp. She
stood with her half-closed hands gathered against her. "How perfectly
magnificent," she murmured, gazing out through the hard half-darkness to
where the brightly coloured world lay in a strip and ended on the hard
sky.

"Yes... yes," came a sad low voice at her side.

For a second Miriam did not turn. She drank in the quiet "yes, yes," the
hard fixed scene seemed to move. Who loved it too, the dark sky and the
storm? Then she focussed her companion who was standing a little behind
her, and gazed at Fraulein; she hardly saw her, she seemed still to see
the outdoor picture. Fraulein made a movement towards her; and then she
saw for a moment the strange grave young look in her eyes. Fraulein had
looked at her in that moment as an equal. It was as if they had embraced
each other.

Then Fraulein said sadly, "You like the storm-weather, Miss Henderson."

"Yes."

Fraulein sighed, looking out across the country. "We are in the hollow
of His Hand," she murmured. "Come to your breakfast, my child," she
chided, smiling.

14

There was no church. Late in the afternoon when the sky lifted they all
went to the woods in their summer dresses and hats. They had permission
to carry their gloves and Elsa Speier's parasol and lace scarf hung from
her wrist. The sky was growing higher and lighter, but there was no sun.
They entered the dark woods by a little well-swept pathway and for a
while there was a strip of sky above their heads; but presently the
trees grew tall and dense, the sky was shut out and their footsteps and
voices began to echo about them as they straggled along, grouping and
regrouping as the pathway widened and narrowed, gathering their skirts
clear of the wet undergrowth. They crossed a roadway and two carriage
loads of men and women talking and laughing and shouting with shining
red faces passed swiftly by, one close behind the other. Beyond the
roadway the great trees towered up in a sort of twilight. There were no
flowers here, but bright fungi shone here and there about the roots of
the trees and they all stood for a moment to listen to the tinkling of a
little stream.

Pathways led away in all directions. It was growing lighter. There were
faint chequers of light and shade about them as they walked. The forest
was growing golden all round them