at the front door. Let me go. I want to let her in myself."

"If?"

"Let me go. If----"

"If?"

"If you hadn't understood and----"

"Yes?"

"If you hadn't come back to me!"

XII

WHILE IT IS YET DAY

"And is it really true? Are you going to govern the Fortunate Islands?"

"I am, indeed--or rather, to be accurate, I am going to deputy-govern
them--I mean, father is--for a year."

"A whole year!" he said, looking down at her fan. "What will London do
without you?"

"London will do excellently," she answered--"and that's my pet fan, and
it's not used to being tied into knots." She took it from him.

"And what shall I do without you?"

"Oh! laugh and rhyme and dance and dine. You'll go out to the proper
number of dinners and dances, and make the proper measure of pretty
little speeches and nice little phrases; and you'll do your reviews, and
try to make them as like your editor's as you can; and you'll turn out
your charming little rondeaux and triolets, and the year will simply
fly. Heigho! I'm glad I'm going to see something big, if it's only the
Atlantic."

"You are very cruel," he said.

"Am I? But it's not cruel to be cruel if nobody's hurt, is it? And I am
so tired of nice little verses and pretty little dances and dainty
little dinners. Oh, if I were only a man!"

"Thank God you're not!" said he.

"If I were a man, I would do just one big thing in my life, even if I
had to settle down to a life of snippets and trifles afterwards."

Her eyes were shining. They always glittered, but now they were starry.
The drifted white folds across her breast stirred to her quickened
breath.

"If you loved me, Sybil, I could do something great!" said he.

"But I _don't_," she said--"at any rate, not now; and I've told you so a
dozen times. My dear Rupert, the man who needs a woman to save him isn't
worth the saving."

"What would you call a big thing?" he asked. "Must I conquer an empire
for you, or start a new religion? Or shall I merely get the Victoria
Cross, or become Prime Minister?"

"Don't sneer," said she; "it doesn't become you at all. You've no idea
how horrid you look when you're sneering. Why don't you----? Oh! but
it's no good! By the way, what a charming cover Housman has designed for
your _Veils and Violets_! It's a dear little book. Some of the verses
are quite pretty."

"Go on," said he, "rub it in. I know I haven't done much yet; but
there's plenty of time. And how can one