would receive
its old tenants again, be scented again with the lavender, made musical
with Rosamund's voice, made gay with the busy prattle and perpetual
activities of Robin.

For two days thereafter no reference was made by either Rosamund or
Dion to the question of moving. Dion gave himself up to Welsley,
to holiday-making. With a flowing eagerness, not wholly free from
undercurrents, Rosamund swept him sweetly through Welsley's delights.
She inoculated him with Welsley, or at any rate did her best to
inoculate him, secretly praying with all her force that the wonderful
preparation might "take." Soon she believed that it was "taking." It was
evident that Dion was delighted with Welsley. On his very first day they
went together to the afternoon service in the Cathedral, and when the
anthem was given out it proved to be "The Wilderness." Rosamund's
quick look at Dion told him that this was her sweet doing, and that she
remembered their talk on the hill of Drouva. He listened to that anthem
as he had never listened to an anthem before. After the service Canon
Wilton, who, though no longer in residence as "three months' Canon," was
still staying on at his house in the Precincts for a few days, came up
to welcome him home. Then Mr. Dickinson appeared, full of that modesty
which is greedy for compliments. Mrs. Dickinson, too, drifted up the
nave in a casual way which scarcely concealed her curiosity about Mrs.
Dion's husband; when, later, Rosamund told Dion of her Precincts' name,
"the cold douche," he could not see its applicability.

"I thought her an observant but quite a warm-hearted woman," he said.

"She is warm-hearted; in fact she's a dear, and I'm very fond of her,"
said Rosamund.

"Every one here seems very fond of you," he replied.

Indeed, he was struck by Welsley's evident love of Rosamund. It was like
a warm current flowing about her, and about him now, because he was her
husband. He was greeted with cordial kindness by every one.

"It is jolly to be received like this," he said to Rosamund. "It does
a fellow good when he's just come home. It makes him feel that there is
indeed no place like England. But it's all owing to you."

But she protested.

"They all admire and respect you for what you've done," she said.
"You've brought the best introductions here, your own deeds. They speak
for you."

He shook his head, loving her perfectly sincere modesty.

"You may be a thousand things," he told her, "