"Can you tell it?"

"No. I have never been able to tell that particular story."

"And do you really think he is telling it to her now?" with a backward
glance.

"Not at this moment. It's no good running back. He's only thinking about
it now. He will tell it her in about a month or six weeks' time."

"I hope I shall be there when he tells it."

"I hope you may; but I don't think it is likely. And now, Molly, set
your hat straight, and leave off jumping. I never jump when I go to
church with Aunt Mary. Quietly now, for there's the church, and Mr.
Alwynn's looking out of the window."

Dare, meanwhile, walking with Ruth, caught sight of the church and
lych-gate with heart-felt regret. The stretches of sunny meadowland, the
faint glamour of church bells, the pale refined face beside him, had
each individually and all three together appealed to his imagination,
always vivid when he himself was concerned. He suddenly felt as if a
great gulf had fixed itself, without any will of his own, between his
old easy-going life and the new existence that was opening out before
him.

He had crossed from the old to the new without any perception of such a
gulf, and now, as he looked back, it seemed to yawn between him and all
that hitherto he had been. He did not care to look back, so he looked
forward. He felt as if he were the central figure (when was he _not_ a
central figure?) in a new drama. He was fond of acting, on and off the
stage, and now he seemed to be playing a new part, in which he was not
yet thoroughly at ease, but which he rather suspected would become him
exceedingly well. It amused him to see himself going to church--_to
church_--to hear himself conversing on flowers and music with a young
English girl. The idea that he was rapidly falling in love was specially
delightful. He called himself a _vieux scelerat_, and watched the
progress of feelings which he felt did him credit with extreme
satisfaction. He and Ruth arrived at the church porch all too soon for
Dare; and though he had the pleasure of sitting on one side of her
during the service, he would have preferred that Charles, of whom he
felt a vague distrust, had not happened to be on the other.

CHAPTER X.

"My dear," said Mrs. Alwynn to her husband that morning, as they started
for church across the glebe, "if any of the Atherstone party are in
church, as they ought to be, for I hear from Mrs. Smith that they are
not at all regular at Greenac