n, and as
she watched her sister's face, became almost kind, almost sympathetic.
George proposed to walk back part of the way to Ambleside with his
sister-in-law, and Nelly with a little frown of alarm watched them go.

But the tete-a-tete was not disagreeable to either. Bridget was taken
aback, to begin with, by some very liberal proposals of Sarratt's on the
subject of her and Nelly's joint expenses during his absence. She was to
be Nelly's guest--they both wished it--and he said kindly that he
quite understood Nelly's marriage had made a difference to her, and he
hoped she would let them make it up to her, as far and as soon as they
could. Bridget was surprised into amiability,--and Sarratt found a
chance of saying--

'And you'll let Nelly talk about the war--though it does bore you? She
won't be able to help it--poor child!'

Bridget supposed that now she too would have to talk about the war. He
needn't be afraid, she added drily. She would look after Nelly. And she
looked so masterful and vigorous as she said it, that Sarratt could only
believe her.

They shook hands in the road, better friends to all seeming than they
had been yet. And Nelly received George's account of the conversation
with a sigh of relief.

* * * * *

That night the midsummer moon would be at the full, and as the clouds
vanished from the sky, and the soft purple night came down, Nelly and
Sarratt leaving every piece of luggage behind them, packed, labelled,
locked, and piled in the hall, ready for the cart that was to call for
it in the early hours--took their way to the lake and the boathouse.
They had been out at night once before, but this was to be the crowning
last thing--the last joint memory.

It was eleven o'clock before the oars dipped into the water, and as they
neared the larger island, the moon, rearing its bright head over the
eastern fells, shot a silver pathway through the lake; and on either
side of the pathway, the mirrored woods and crags, more dim and ghostly
than by day, seemed to lead downward to that very threshold and entrance
of the underworld, through which the blinded Theban king vanished from
the eyes of men. Silver-bright the woods and fell-side, on the west;
while on the east the woods in shadow, lay sleeping, 'moon-charmed.' The
air was balmy; and one seemed to hear through it the steady soft beat of
the summer life, rising through the leaves and grass and flowers. Every
soun