CHAPTER XII

_HIS FIRST VISIT_

"The roses bloom while the lady waits,
The lark sings high in the blue above;
But who will open the golden gates,
And let her in to the realms of love?"

Arnold Wayne's first call upon Elsie was always a very distinct memory
to him afterwards. People were beginning to go out of town, and those
who remained were haunted by the thought of breezy uplands, or of a blue
summer sea breaking lazily on the golden sands. As Arnold walked along
All Saints' Street, about five in the afternoon, the chime of a bell
ringing for evensong reminded him of his old home at Rushbrook and the
grey church close to his gates.

So it came to pass that he went into Elsie's presence haunted by
memories of his boyhood, and there was nothing in her presence to dispel
such memories; something about her seemed to blend with them and
harmonise with early associations.

She had been sitting by the open window with a book upon her lap, and
she rose to meet him, still holding the volume in her hand. She was
dressed in a pale-grey gown, and wore a large bunch of heliotrope in the
folds of a kerchief of soft muslin knotted at her breast. The quiet
little room was flooded with sunshine; the bell kept up its chime; some
white pigeons went flying past the window.

"You have made a home here," he said involuntarily; and then he thought
of those wise words of Ruskin's: "Wherever a true wife comes, this home
is always round her. The stars only may be over her head, the glow-worm
in the night-cold grass may be the only fire at her foot; but home is
yet wherever she is."

"Yes," she answered quietly, "it is a safe nook, where I can be at
peace."

"She has known storms, then," was Arnold's mental comment.

He began to speak of Jamie, and a light came suddenly into her face. It
was the greatest relief, she said, to know that the child was happy.

"And Miss Neale's manuscript--may I see it?" he asked. "I have always
wished that I had known her. When Waring wrote to tell me of his
engagement I was abroad. The letter followed me from place to place."

"The manuscript was discovered by chance. I keep it where I first found
it," said Elsie, going to the old table in the corner. She took the roll
of paper out of the drawer and put it into his hand. There was perfect
silence in the room while he turned over the pages. Elsie had gone back
to her window-seat and sat there motionless.

"If they were with