ch ceremony
between us. Accordingly, it was with no thought of interference with his
privacy that I blundered into my chief's sitting-room to announce the
number of new members we had enrolled after the meeting. John Crondall
was standing on the hearth-rug, his right hand was resting on Constance
Grey's shoulder, his lips were touching her forehead.

For an instant I thought of retreat. But the thing seemed too clumsy.
Accordingly, having turned to close the door, with deliberation, I
advanced into the room with some awkward remark about having thought my
chief was alone, and produced my figures of the enrolment of new
members. After a few moments Constance left us, referring to some errand
she had in view. I did not look at her, and John Crondall plunged at
once into working talk. As for me, I was acutely conscious that I had
seen Crondall kiss Constance; but my chief made no sign to show me
whether or not he was aware that I had seen this.

Although I thought I had accustomed myself to the idea of these two
being predestined mates, I realized now that no amount of reasoning
would ever really reconcile me to the practical outworking of the idea.
Of course, my feeling about it would be described as jealousy pure and
simple. Perhaps it was; but I cherish the idea that it was some more
kindly shade of feeling. I know it brought no hint of resentment or
weakening in my affection for John Crondall; and most assuredly I
harboured no unkind thought of Constance. But I loved her; every pulse
in me throbbed love and longing at her approach. Again and again I had
demonstrated to myself my own unworthiness of such a woman; the natural
affinity between Constance and Crondall. Yet now, the sight of that kiss
was as the sound of a knell in my heart; it filled me with an aching
lament for the death of----of something which had still lived in me,
whether admitted or not, till then.

For days after that episode of the kiss I lived in hourly expectation of
a communication from John Crondall. Our relations were so intimate that
I felt certain he would not withhold his confidence for long. But day
succeeded day in our strenuous, hurried life, and no word came to me
from my chief regarding any other thing than our own work. Indeed, I
thought I detected a certain new sternness in John Crondall's demeanour,
an extra rigid concentration upon work, which carried with it, for me,
a suggestion of his being unwilling to meet one upon any other