hing about me, if she hasn't
done it a'ready."

He was in his office still thinking of her, after the busy day, when
the postman brought the last delivery of letters.

"Good evening, sir. Only three to-night."

"Thank you. Good night, George," and Dale had a friendly smile for
this old acquaintance.

Postman George was growing fat and heavy, betraying signs of age. He
had been a sprightly telegraph boy when Dale was postmaster of
Rodchurch.

"Good night, sir. Fine weather for the hay."

"Yes, capital."

When the postman had gone Dale stood trembling. One of the letters was
from her. He felt unnerved by the mere sight of her handwriting on the
envelope--the hand that was so like his own, the hand that she had
taught herself by laborious study and imitation of his official
copper-plate; and he thought, "If I was wise I shouldn't open it. If I
was strong enough, I should just burn it, without reading. For,
whatever's inside, it's going to make me one bit more desp'rate than I
am now."

He snatched up his hat, went out of the house, and walked along the
road holding her letter pressed tight against his heart. There was a
gentle air that floated pleasantly over the fields, and in spite of
all the heavy rain that had fallen such a little while ago, the white
dust rose in high clouds when a motor-car came whizzing by. After the
car two timber wagons crept slowly, and then there were children
trailing a broken perambulator; but directly the road became vacant
again, he leaned against a gate and opened the envelope. He had felt
that he must be quite alone when he read what she said to him, and had
intended to go farther, but he could not wait any more.

"Sir, I beg to say"--That was how he had taught her to begin all
letters: she knew no other mode of address. "I beg to say this is a
very large place and you can see the sea from the bedrooms."

He read on; and his pleasure was so exquisite and his pain so
laceratingly sharp that the sky and the acids swam round and round.

... "There's nice girls here, one or two. Nellie Evans do all she can
to make me not so miserable She has a sweetheart at Rodchurch. They
all have their boys if you believe their talk.

"And all the marks at the end are the sweet kisses I give my boy. For
you are my boy now--my own secret one, and I am your loving girl

"Norah."

She was thinking only of him; she wanted no one younger and h