people who discover that they
live near each other and that they ought to have known each other
before. But there was a sort of unexpected frankness and simplicity in
the girl's amusing manner which would have struck any one else as being
singular, to say the least of it. To me, however, it all seemed
natural enough. I had dreamed of her face too long not to be utterly
happy when I met her at last and could talk to her as much as I
pleased. To me, the man of ill luck in everything, the whole meeting
seemed too good to be true. I felt again that strange sensation of
lightness which I had experienced after I had seen her face in the
garden. The great rooms seemed brighter, life seemed worth living; my
sluggish, melancholy blood ran faster, and filled me with a new sense
of strength. I said to myself that without this woman I was but an
imperfect being, but that with her I could accomplish everything to
which I should set my hand. Like the great Doctor, when he thought he
had cheated Mephistopheles at last, I could have cried aloud to the
fleeting moment, _Verweile dock, du bist so schoen_!

"Are you always gay?" I asked, suddenly. "How happy you must be!"

"The days would sometimes seem very long if I were gloomy," she
answered, thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I find life very pleasant, and I
tell it so."

"How can you 'tell life' anything?" I inquired. "If I could catch my
life and talk to it, I would abuse it prodigiously, I assure you."

"I dare say. You have a melancholy temper. You ought to live
out-of-doors, dig potatoes; make hay, shoot, hunt, tumble into ditches,
and come home muddy and hungry for dinner. It would be much better for
you than moping in your rook tower and hating everything."

"It is rather lonely down there," I murmured, apologetically, feeling
that Miss Lammas was quite right.

"Then marry, and quarrel with your wife," she laughed. "Anything is
better than being alone."

"I am a very peaceable person. I never quarrel with anybody. You can
try it. You will find it quite impossible."

"Will you let me try?" she asked, still smiling.

"By all means--especially if it is to be only a preliminary canter," I
answered, rashly.

"What do you mean?" she inquired, turning quickly upon me.

"Oh--nothing. You might try my paces with a view to quarrelling in the
future. I cannot imagine how you are going to do it. You will have to
resort to immediate and direct abuse."

"No. I w