n they
regained the inn, Geoffrey had not even such a butterfly kiss to remember
as she had once given him in the lime-walk at Beechmark; and Lucy, trying
in her eager affection to solve the puzzle they presented her with, had
simply to give it up.

* * * * *

The day grew wilder. Great flights of clouds came up from the west and
fought the sun, and as the afternoon declined, light gusts of rain,
succeeded by bursts of sunshine, began to sweep across the oak-woods. The
landlord of the inn and his sons, who had been mainly responsible for
building the great bonfire on Moel Dun, and the farmers in their gigs who
stopped at the inn door, began to shake their heads over the prospects of
the night. Helena, Lucy Friend, and Geoffrey spent the afternoon chiefly
in fishing and wandering by the river. Helena clung to Lucy's side,
defying her indeed to leave her, and Geoffrey could only submit, and
count the tardy hours. They made tea in a green meadow beside the stream,
and immediately afterwards Geoffrey, looking at his watch, announced to
Mrs. Friend that he proposed to bicycle down to Bettws to meet Lord
Buntingford.

Helena came with him to the inn to get his bicycle. They said little to
each other, till, just as he was departing, French bent over to her, as
she stood beside his machine.

"Do I understand?--I may tell him?"

"Yes." And then for the first time she smiled upon him; a smile that was
heavenly soft and kind; so that he went off in mounting spirits.

Helena retraced her steps to the river-side, where they had left Lucy.
She sat down on a rock by Lucy's side, and instinctively Lucy put down
some knitting she held, and turned an eager face--her soul in her eyes.

"Lucy--I am engaged to Geoffrey French."

Lucy laughed and cried; held the bright head in her arms and kissed the
cheek that lay upon her shoulder. Helena's eyes too were wet; and in both
there was the memory of that night at Beechmark which had made them
sisters rather than friends.

"And of course," said Helena--"you'll stay with me for ever."

But Lucy was far too happy to think of her own future. She had made
friends--real friends--in these three months, after years of loneliness.
It seemed to her that was all that mattered. And half guiltily her
memory cherished those astonishing words--"_Mr. Alcott_ and I miss you
very much."

A drizzling rain had begun when towards eight o'clock they heard the
sound of a m