d, the red-brown woods! Why, what had the man been doing
with the study? White blinds showed it was a bedroom now. Vandal!
Besides, how could the boys have free access except of that ground-floor
room? And all that pretty stretch of grass under the acacia had been cut
up into stiff little lozenge-shaped beds, filled, he supposed, in summer
with the properest geraniums. He should never dare to tell that to
Catherine.

He stood and watched the little significant signs of change in this
realm, which had been once his own, with a dissatisfied mouth, his
undermind filled the while with tempestuous yearning and affection. In
that upper room he had lain through that agonized night of crisis! the
dawn-twittering of the summer birds seemed to be still in his ears. And
there, in the distance, was the blue wreath of smoke hanging over Mile
End. Ah! the new cottages must be warm this winter. The children did not
lie in the wet any longer--thank God! Was there time just to run down to
Irwin's cottage, to have a look at the Institute?

He had been standing on the further side of the road from the rectory
that he might not seem to be spying out the land and his successor's
ways too closely. Suddenly he found himself clinging to a gate near him
that led into a field. He was shaken by a horrible struggle for breath.
The self seemed to be foundering in a stifling sea, and fought like a
drowning thing. When the moment passed, he looked round him bewildered,
drawing his hand across his eyes. The world had grown black--the sun
seemed to be scarcely shining. Were those the sounds of children's
voices on the hill, the rumbling of a cart--or was it all, sight and
sound alike, mirage and delirium?

With difficulty, leaning on his stick as though he were a man of
seventy, he groped his way back to the Park. There he sank down, still
gasping, among the roots of one of the great cedars near the gate. After
a while the attack passed off and he found himself able to walk on. But
the joy, the leaping pulse of half an hour ago were gone from his veins.
Was that the river--the house? He looked at them with dull eyes. All
the light was lowered. A veil seemed to lie between him and the familiar
things.

However, by the time he reached the door of the Hall will and nature had
reasserted themselves, and he knew where he was and what he had to do.

Vincent flung the door open with his old lordly air.

'Why, sir! _Mr._ Elsmere!'

The butler's voice b