ster. I bullied myself. I treated myself as a foolish child. The new
spirit in me waved its feeble arms and shouted wildly of its splendid
intentions. I could be immensely valiant in the presence of this single
listener, but the thought of Anne humiliated and subdued even this bright
new spirit that had so amazingly taken possession of me. I wondered if I
might not submit my problem to her ask her what she would have me to do.
Nevertheless, I knew that if I would win her esteem, I must act on my own
initiative.

My conflict and realisation of new desires had had, however, one salutary
effect. The depression of my earlier mood had fallen from me. When I
looked round at the widening pool of darkness that flowed and deepened
about the undergrowth, I found that it produced no longer any impression
of melancholy.

I lifted my head and marched forward with the resolution of a conqueror.

* * * * *

I was nearly clear of the wood when I saw Banks coming towards me. He was
carrying my suit-case, and behind him Racquet with a sprightly bearing of
the tail that contradicted the droop of his head, followed with the body
of a young rabbit.

"Loot from the Hall?" I asked when I came within speaking distance.

"Yes, he's been poaching again," Banks said, disregarding the application
of my remark to the suit-case. "Well, he can, now, for all I care. He can
have every blessed rabbit and pheasant in the Park if he likes. I'm done
with 'em."

"Things gone badly?" I asked, stretching out my hand for the suit-case.

"I'll carry it," he said, ignoring my question. "John had it ready packed
when I got there."

I remembered with a passing qualm that John had not been tipped, but put
that thought away as a matter of no pressing importance. "Had he?" I
commented. "Well, you've carried it half-way, now, I'll carry it the other
half."

"I can do it," he said.

"You can but you won't," I replied. "Hand it over." I regarded the
carrying of that suit-case as a symbol of my new way of life. I hoped that
when we arrived at the Farm, Anne might see me carrying it, and realise
that even a writer of foolish comedies, who was well off and belonged to
the Jervaises' class, might aspire to be the equal of her brother.

"It's all right," Banks said, and his manner struck a curious mean between
respect and friendship.

I laid hold of the suit-case and took it from him almost by force.

"You see, it isn't so much