a job of everything. You couldn't
help feeling he'd be caught out one day, and then what an almighty
cropper he'd come! At that moment an immense wave lifted Jonathan, rode
past him, and broke along the beach with a joyful sound. What a beauty!
And now there came another. That was the way to live--carelessly,
recklessly, spending oneself. He got on to his feet and began to wade
towards the shore, pressing his toes into the firm, wrinkled sand. To
take things easy, not to fight against the ebb and flow of life, but to
give way to it--that was what was needed. It was this tension that was
all wrong. To live--to live! And the perfect morning, so fresh and fair,
basking in the light, as though laughing at its own beauty, seemed to
whisper, "Why not?"

But now he was out of the water Jonathan turned blue with cold. He ached
all over; it was as though some one was wringing the blood out of him.
And stalking up the beach, shivering, all his muscles tight, he too felt
his bathe was spoilt. He'd stayed in too long.

Chapter 1.III.

Beryl was alone in the living-room when Stanley appeared, wearing a blue
serge suit, a stiff collar and a spotted tie. He looked almost uncannily
clean and brushed; he was going to town for the day. Dropping into his
chair, he pulled out his watch and put it beside his plate.

"I've just got twenty-five minutes," he said. "You might go and see if
the porridge is ready, Beryl?"

"Mother's just gone for it," said Beryl. She sat down at the table and
poured out his tea.

"Thanks!" Stanley took a sip. "Hallo!" he said in an astonished voice,
"you've forgotten the sugar."

"Oh, sorry!" But even then Beryl didn't help him; she pushed the basin
across. What did this mean? As Stanley helped himself his blue
eyes widened; they seemed to quiver. He shot a quick glance at his
sister-in-law and leaned back.

"Nothing wrong, is there?" he asked carelessly, fingering his collar.

Beryl's head was bent; she turned her plate in her fingers.

"Nothing," said her light voice. Then she too looked up, and smiled at
Stanley. "Why should there be?"

"O-oh! No reason at all as far as I know. I thought you seemed rather--"

At that moment the door opened and the three little girls appeared, each
carrying a porridge plate. They were dressed alike in blue jerseys and
knickers; their brown legs were bare, and each had her hair plaited
and pinned up in what was called a horse's tail. Behind them came Mrs.
Fairfi