n. Bazelhurst Villa was a quarter of a mile, through
the park, behind her; the forest was ahead.

At the gate she stopped between the half-finished stone posts and
looked ahead with the first shiver of dismay. Her limbs seemed ready
to collapse. The flush of anger and excitement left her face; a white,
desolate look came in its stead. Her eyes grew wide and she blinked
her lashes with an awed uncertainty that boded ill for the stability
of her adventure. An owl hooted in mournful cadence close by and she
felt that her hair was going straight on end. The tense fingers of one
hand gripped the handle of the travelling-bag while the other went
spasmodically to her heart.

"Oh!" she gasped, moving over quickly to the stake on which the
lantern hung. The wind was rushing through the tree-tops with
increased fervor; the air was cool and wet with the signs of rain; a
swirl of dust flew up into her face; the swish of leaves sounded like
the splashing of water in the air. Holding her heart for minutes, she
at last regained some of the lost composure. A hysterical laugh fell
from her lips. "What a goose! It was an owl and I've heard hundreds of
them up here. Still, they _do_ sound different outside of one's own
room. It's going to rain. What wretched luck! Dear me, I can't stand
here all night. How black it is ahead there. Oooh! Really, now, it
does seem a bit terrifying. If I only had a lantern it wouldn't
be so--" her gaze fell upon the laborers' lantern that clattered
aimlessly, uselessly against the stake. An instant later she had
jerked it from its fastening with a cry of joy. "I'll send it back
when they go for my trunks. What luck!"

Without a second's hesitation she started off briskly into the
woodland road, striding along with the splendid swing of the healthy
Englishwoman who has not been trained to dawdle. Her walking-skirt
gave free play to her limbs; she was far past the well-known "line in
the road" before she paused to take a full breath and to recapitulate.
Her heart beat faster and the sudden glow in her cheek was not from
the exercise. Somehow, out there alone in the world, the most amazing
feeling of tenderness sped on ahead to Randolph Shaw. She tried to
put it from her, but it grew and grew. Then she blushed deep within
herself and her eyes grew sweet with the memory of those stolen,
reprehensible hours along the frontier. Something within her breast
cried out for those shining, gone-by moments, something