the uprising of
the smoke of its everlasting burnings. The sight of this, magnificent,
menacing evidence of the anarchic might of the powers of nature,
quickened the pagan instinct in her. She wanted to worship. And even in
so doing, she became aware of a kindred something in herself--of an
answering and anarchic energy, a certain menace to the conventional
works and ways, and fancied security, of groping, purblind man. The
insolence of a great lady, the dangerously primitive instincts of a
great courtesan, filled her with an enormous pride, a reckless
self-confidence.

Turning, she glanced back across the formal garden, bright with waxen
camellias set in glossy foliage, with early roses, with hyacinths,
lemon and orange blossom, towards the villa. Upon the black-and-white
marble balustrade a man leaned his elbows. She could see his broad
shoulders, his bare head. From his height she took him, at first, to be
kneeling, as, motionless, he looked towards her and towards the
splendid view. Then she perceived that he was not kneeling, but
standing upright. She understood, and a very vital sensation ran right
through her, causing the queerest turn in her blood.

"Mercy of heaven!" she said to herself, "is it conceivable that now, at
this time of day, I am capable of the egregious folly of losing my
head?"

CHAPTER II

WHEREIN TIME IS DISCOVERED TO HAVE WORKED CHANGES

Helen, however, did not stay to debate as to the state of her
affections. She had had more than enough of reflection of late. Now
action invited her. She responded. The sweep of her turquoise-blue
cloth skirts sent the fallen Judas-blossoms dancing, to left and right,
in crazy whirling companies. She did not wait even to put on her
broad-brimmed, garden hat,--the crown of it encircled, as luck would
have it, by a garland of pale, pink tulle and pale, pink roses,--but
braved the sunshine with no stouter head-covering than the coils of her
honey-coloured hair. Rapidly she passed up the central alley between
the double row of glossy leaved camellia bushes, laughter in her
downcast eyes and a delicious thrill of excitement at her heart. She
felt strong and light, her being vibrant, penetrated and sustained
throughout by the bracing air, the sparkling, crystal-clear atmosphere.
Yet for all her eagerness Helen remained an artist. She would not
forestall effects. Thriftily she husbanded sensations. Thus, reaching
the base of the black-and-white marble w