en in these last days. It was almost twilight when he came;
Johnny had gone out to collect fir-cones; Julia sent him, partly
because their stock was low and partly because she thought it would do
him good. She did not expect him back much before five o'clock; it
would be dark by then certainly, but not very dark for the day was
clear, with a touch of frost in the air; one of those days when the
last of the sunset burns low down in the sky long after the stars are
out. It was not much after four o'clock when Julia heard something
approaching, certainly not Johnny nor anything connected with him, for
it was the throb of a motor coming fast. Only once before since she
had been at the cottage had she heard that sound on the lonely road,
on the day when Rawson-Clew came. It could not be him now, she was
sure of that. He might have received the money this morning certainly,
but he would not come because of that, rather he would keep away;
there was no reason why he should come. She told herself it was
impossible, and then went to the door to see, puzzled in her own mind
what she should say if the impossible had happened and it was he.

The throbbing had ceased by now; there was the click of the gate even
as she opened the door, and he--it was he and no other--was coming up
the little brick path in the twilight. His face was curiously clear in
the light which lingered low down; and when she saw it and the look it
wore, all plans of what she should say fled, and the feeling came upon
her which was like that which came when she crouched behind the
chopping-block and he barred the way. It seemed as if he had been
pursuing and she escaping and eluding for a long time, but now--he was
coming up the path and she was standing in the doorway with the pale
light strong on her face and nowhere to fly to and no way of escape.

"Why did you not tell me before?" he said without any greeting at all,
and he spoke as if he had right and authority. "Why did you let this
thing weigh on you for two years and never say a word of it to me?"

"I was ashamed," she answered with truth. Then the spirit which still
inhabits some women, making them willing to be won by capture,
prompted her to struggle against the capitulation she was ready to
make. "There was nothing to speak of to you or any one else," she
said, with an effort at her old assurance, and she led the way in as
she spoke. "I never meant to speak of it at all, I meant just to pay
the deb