exquisite physical ones, are to be measured
by intensity rather than duration. For a space the vision sensibly held
her, the so ardently desired presence there incontestibly beside her, a
personality vivid and distinct, yet in a way remote, serene as the
immense dome of the cloudless sky, chastened and etherealised as the
song of the answering nightingale, and in this differing from any
bodily presence, as the song in question differed from that of the bird
in the laurel close at hand.

Gradually, and with such sense of refreshment as one enjoys who,
bathing in some clear stream at evening, washes away all soil and sweat
of a weary journey, Katherine awoke to more ordinary observation of her
material surroundings. She became aware that the dog, Camp, had turned
singularly restless. He slunk away as though wishing to avoid her near
neighbourhood, crawled back to her, with dragging hind quarters,
cringing and whining as though in acute distress. And, by degrees,
another sound obtruded itself, speaking of haste and effort, notably at
variance with the delicate and gracious stillness. It came from the
highroad crossing the open moor, which loomed up a dark, straight ridge
against the southern horizon. It came in rising and falling cadence,
but ever nearer and nearer, increasingly distinct, increasingly
urgent--the fast, steady trot of a horse. The moon, meanwhile, had
swept clear of the saw-like edge of the fir forest, and, while the
thin, white light of it broadened upon the dewy grass and the beat of
the horse-hoofs rang out clearer and clearer, Katherine was aware that
the dear vision faded and grew faint. As it had come, softly, without
amazement or fear, so it departed, without agitation or sadness of
farewell, leaving Katherine profoundly consoled, the glory of her
womanhood restored to her in the indubitable assurance that what had
been of necessity continued, and forever was.

And, therefore, she still listened but idly to the approaching sound,
not reckoning with it as yet, though the roll of wheels was now added
to the rapid beat of the hoofs of the trotting horse. It had turned
down over the hillside by the crossroad leading to the upper lodge.
Suddenly it ceased. The shout of a man's voice, loud and imperative, a
momentary pause, then the clang of heavy, iron gates swinging back into
place, and once again the roll of wheels and that steady, urgent,
determined trot, coming nearer and nearer down the elm avenue,