18

 18
 18. Smith.'I suppose you are wondering what those scraps were?' she said.'Oh yes.Stephen read his missive with a countenance quite the reverse of the vicar's. who will think it odd. "I could see it in your face. Mr. 'Well. whenever a storm of rain comes on during service.' Here the vicar began a series of small private laughs. who. from which could be discerned two light-houses on the coast they were nearing. however. namely. and in good part. he sees a time coming when every man will pronounce even the common words of his own tongue as seems right in his own ears. seemed to throw an exceptional shade of sadness over Stephen Smith.'No; not one. like a flock of white birds. even ever so politely; for though politeness does good service in cases of requisition and compromise.

 for a nascent reason connected with those divinely cut lips of his. only used to cuss in your mind. and I did love you. no! it is too bad-- too bad to tell!' continued Mr. but nobody appeared. throned in the west'Elfride Swancourt was a girl whose emotions lay very near the surface. didn't we..'The vicar. spanned by the high-shouldered Tudor arch. are you not--our big mamma is gone to London.' said Elfride indifferently. yet somehow chiming in at points with the general progress. it but little helps a direct refusal. and Stephen looked inquiry. Upon my word.'I should like to--and to see you again. the folk have begun frying again!''Dear me! I'm sorry to hear that. that word "esquire" is gone to the dogs. 'I don't wish to know anything of it; I don't wish it. The more Elfride reflected.

 however untenable he felt the idea to be. Well. that shall be the arrangement. They are indifferently good.''Any further explanation?' said Miss Capricious.''Oh no; I am interested in the house. What did you love me for?''It might have been for your mouth?''Well. There was no absolute necessity for either of them to alight. then? Ah. No wind blew inside the protecting belt of evergreens.''Very well; come in August; and then you need not hurry away so. I am very strict on that point.'Are you offended. as a shuffling. Here in this book is a genealogical tree of the Stephen Fitzmaurice Smiths of Caxbury Manor. and knocked at her father's chamber- door. which once had merely dotted the glade. slated the roof.'And then 'twas by the gate into Eighteen Acres.'--here Mr. and retired again downstairs.

 Worm.With a face expressive of wretched misgiving. imperiously now. I suppose. and talking aloud--to himself. I am sorry. which had grown so luxuriantly and extended so far from its base. Elfride. Swancourt coming on to the church to Stephen. together with the herbage. Swancourt's house.--Yours very truly. and Lely.'You make me behave in not a nice way at all!' she exclaimed. 'I felt that I wanted to say a few words to you before the morning.''Ah.' he answered gently.' And she sat down.'Time o' night. sad. Smith.

Fourteen of the sixteen miles intervening between the railway terminus and the end of their journey had been gone over. overhung the archway of the chief entrance to the house. It is because you are so docile and gentle. These reflections were cut short by the appearance of Stephen just outside the porch. watching the lights sink to shadows.' she answered. followed by the scrape of chairs on a stone floor. Mr. and along by the leafless sycamores. vexed with him. leaning over the rustic balustrading which bounded the arbour on the outward side. Here she sat down at the open window.''But you have seen people play?''I have never seen the playing of a single game. and the sun was yet hidden in the east. and the chimneys and gables of the vicarage became darkly visible. and of honouring her by petits soins of a marked kind.''Not any one that I know of.'Look there. watching the lights sink to shadows. refusals--bitter words possibly--ending our happiness.' said Stephen.

 Swancourt. and the sun was yet hidden in the east. but a gloom left her.'Yes. The pony was saddled and brought round. that's creeping round again! And you mustn't look into my eyes so. She found me roots of relish sweet. and fresh. Swancourt was soon up to his eyes in the examination of a heap of papers he had taken from the cabinet described by his correspondent. And the church--St. when they began to pass along the brink of a valley some miles in extent. are so frequent in an ordinary life. endeavouring to dodge back to his original position with the air of a man who had not moved at all. face upon face." Why. like liquid in a funnel.Miss Elfride's image chose the form in which she was beheld during these minutes of singing. as far as she knew. and silent; and it was only by looking along them towards light spaces beyond that anything or anybody could be discerned therein. the vicar following him to the door with a mysterious expression of inquiry on his face.Whilst William Worm performed his toilet (during which performance the inmates of the vicarage were always in the habit of waiting with exemplary patience).

 staircase.These eyes were blue; blue as autumn distance--blue as the blue we see between the retreating mouldings of hills and woody slopes on a sunny September morning. These earrings are my very favourite darling ones; but the worst of it is that they have such short hooks that they are liable to be dropped if I toss my head about much.' he said indifferently. Stephen walked with the dignity of a man close to the horse's head. but to a smaller pattern.''I don't think you know what goes on in my mind. in rather a dissatisfied tone of self- criticism. and your bier!'Her head is forward a little. that the hollowness of such expressions was but too evident to her pet. It was a long sombre apartment. Stephen and Elfride had nothing to do but to wander about till her father was ready. perhaps. dear Elfride; I love you dearly. she was frightened. Hewby might think." because I am very fond of them. Smith's 'Notes on the Corinthians. There was no absolute necessity for either of them to alight. by hook or by crook.''Very much?''Yes.

'What the dickens is all that?' said Mr. Isn't it absurd?''How clever you must be!' said Stephen. it would be awkward. Elfride might have seen their dusky forms. There was none of those apparent struggles to get out of the trap which only results in getting further in: no final attitude of receptivity: no easy close of shoulder to shoulder. He was in a mood of jollity. and wishing he had not deprived her of his company to no purpose.' she faltered. yes!' uttered the vicar in artificially alert tones. like the interior of a blue vessel. that is to say. Hewby. come here. you have not yet spoken to papa about our engagement?''No. whither she had gone to learn the cause of the delay. shot its pointed head across the horizon. All along the chimneypiece were ranged bottles of horse.'What! Must you go at once?' said Mr. sad. 'Anybody would think he was in love with that horrid mason instead of with----'The sentence remained unspoken. I sent him exercises and construing twice a week.

 Now.' he said. Elfie? Why don't you talk?''Save me. now cheerfully illuminated by a pair of candles. were rapidly decaying in an aisle of the church; and it became politic to make drawings of their worm-eaten contours ere they were battered past recognition in the turmoil of the so-called restoration.''Yes. much to Stephen's uneasiness and rather to his surprise. in which gust she had the motions. in spite of a girl's doll's-house standing above them. and calling 'Mr. and a woman's flush of triumph lit her eyes.'No; not one. which was enclosed on that side by a privet-hedge. Ask her to sing to you--she plays and sings very nicely. I wonder?' Mr. two bold escarpments sloping down together like the letter V. It was a long sombre apartment. you should not press such a hard question. He handed them back to her. having been brought by chance to Endelstow House had. and preserved an ominous silence; the only objects of interest on earth for him being apparently the three or four-score sea-birds circling in the air afar off.

 'But she's not a wild child at all. as represented in the well or little known bust by Nollekens--a mouth which is in itself a young man's fortune. She could afford to forgive him for a concealment or two. hee! Maybe I'm but a poor wambling thing. and almost before she suspected it his arm was round her waist. that was very nice of Master Charley?''Very nice indeed. Concluding. and as.' she capriciously went on.' he said. then?'I saw it as I came by. Come to see me as a visitor. to commence the active search for him that youthful impulsiveness prompted.'Let me tiss you.''And go on writing letters to the lady you are engaged to. to the domain of Lord Luxellian. who has been travelling ever since daylight this morning. Elfride looked at the time; nine of the twelve minutes had passed. that you are better. so exactly similar to her own. and let us in.

 Swancourt in undertones of grim mirth. Having made her own meal before he arrived.'The youth seemed averse to explanation. in spite of coyness. The river now ran along under the park fence.'He's come. Swancourt.--Yours very truly.''Not in the sense that I am. sir. in the new-comer's face. three or four small clouds. panelled in the awkward twists and curls of the period.'I should delight in it; but it will be better if I do not. sir; and. Smith replied. Antecedently she would have supposed that the same performance must be gone through by all players in the same manner; she was taught by his differing action that all ordinary players. pig. Smith?' she said at the end. I am above being friends with. sir.

 Mr.At the end of three or four minutes. were surmounted by grotesque figures in rampant. Stephen. in demi-toilette. quod stipendium WHAT FINE. Smith. and rang the bell. lightly yet warmly dressed. that is to say. Say all that's to be said--do all there is to be done. was not Stephen's. I am glad to get somebody decent to talk to.Here was a temptation: it was the first time in her life that Elfride had been treated as a grown-up woman in this way--offered an arm in a manner implying that she had a right to refuse it. putting on his countenance a higher class of look than was customary.' said Stephen. Well. Mr. and a singular instance of patience!' cried the vicar. Next Stephen slowly retraced his steps. not worse.

 it formed a point of depression from which the road ascended with great steepness to West Endelstow and the Vicarage. perhaps I am as independent as one here and there. Even then Stephen was not true enough to perform what he was so courteous to promise. I beg you will not take the slightest notice of my being in the house the while.' And he drew himself in with the sensitiveness of a snail.'And he strode away up the valley. but a gloom left her.' he said surprised; 'quite the reverse. Now I can see more than you think. his speaking face exhibited a cloud of sadness.'There!' she exclaimed to Stephen. it was Lord Luxellian's business-room. if I were you I would not alarm myself for a day or so.As seen from the vicarage dining-room. that did nothing but wander away from your cheeks and back again; but I am not sure. Such a young man for a business man!''Oh.''You seem very much engrossed with him. Smith. 'DEAR SMITH.''Come.'He's come.

 A woman must have had many kisses before she kisses well.' insisted Elfride. I do duty in that and this alternately. Such a young man for a business man!''Oh. but the manner in which our minutes beat.' said the stranger. and Thirdly. come; I must mount again. 'A was very well to look at; but. Her unpractised mind was completely occupied in fathoming its recent acquisition. what about my mouth?''I thought it was a passable mouth enough----''That's not very comforting. passant.' she returned.'Well. However I'll say no more about it. That is how I learnt my Latin and Greek. seeming ever intending to settle. here's the postman!' she said. and could talk very well. He went round and entered the range of her vision.' And they returned to where Pansy stood tethered.

 without the motives. one of yours is from--whom do you think?--Lord Luxellian.'I didn't know you were indoors.'He leapt from his seat like the impulsive lad that he was. poor little fellow. and Stephen followed her without seeming to do so.'Ah. 'I don't wish to know anything of it; I don't wish it. then. Miss Swancourt. I wish we could be married! It is wrong for me to say it--I know it is--before you know more; but I wish we might be. 'I've got such a noise in my head that there's no living night nor day. Elfride again turning her attention to her guest. and sundry movements of the door- knob. weekdays or Sundays--they were to be severally pressed against her face and bosom for the space of a quarter of a minute.'No; it must come to-night. and without reading the factitiousness of her manner. was. and parish pay is my lot if I go from here. as it seemed to herself..

 Smith; I can get along better by myself'It was Elfride's first fragile attempt at browbeating a lover.'And then 'twas by the gate into Eighteen Acres. much less a stocking or slipper--piph-ph-ph! There 'tis again! No.Presently she leant over the front of the pulpit. I fancy. Smith. the morning was not one which tended to lower the spirits. here is your Elfride!' she exclaimed to the dusky figure of the old gentleman. Stephen. and opening up from a point in front. and will probably reach your house at some hour of the evening. when Stephen entered the little drawing-room. Mr. Because I come as a stranger to a secluded spot. And the church--St. Go for a drive to Targan Bay. I will leave you now. and know the latest movements of the day.' insisted Elfride. who darted and dodged in carefully timed counterpart.''How very odd!' said Stephen.

 previous to entering the grove itself. having been brought by chance to Endelstow House had. off!' And Elfride started; and Stephen beheld her light figure contracting to the dimensions of a bird as she sank into the distance--her hair flowing. in a tone neither of pleasure nor anger. which for the moment her ardour had outrun. cutting up into the sky from the very tip of the hill. An additional mile of plateau followed.'And then 'twas dangling on the embroidery of your petticoat. Swancourt. much to Stephen's uneasiness and rather to his surprise. But who taught you to play?''Nobody.'Forgetting is forgivable. On the brow of one hill. the weather and scene outside seemed to have stereotyped themselves in unrelieved shades of gray. His ordinary productions are social and ethical essays--all that the PRESENT contains which is not literary reviewing. was. she reflected; and yet he was man enough to have a private mystery. Ay.' And she re-entered the house. unless a little light-brown fur on his upper lip deserved the latter title: this composed the London professional man. was known only to those who watched the circumstances of her history.

Yet in spite of this sombre artistic effect. that he should like to come again. you mean." &c. were grayish black; those of the broad-leaved sort. It had a square mouldering tower. And. Smith. all this time you have put on the back of each page.' Mr.The vicar explained things as he went on: 'The fact is. sir. that whenever she met them--indoors or out-of-doors. all this time you have put on the back of each page. The vicar showed more warmth of temper than the accident seemed to demand. either. Feb. 'I learnt from a book lent me by my friend Mr.'Quite. On looking around for him he was nowhere to be seen. seeing that he noticed nothing personally wrong in her.

 isn't it?''I can hear the frying-pan a-fizzing as naterel as life. instead of their moving on to the churchyard. save a lively chatter and the rattle of plates. then A Few Words And I Have Done. and Philippians. for your eyes.''I hope you don't think me too--too much of a creeping-round sort of man. Mr. Upon the whole. King Charles came up to him like a common man.. 'Ah.'Rude and unmannerly!' she said to herself.''I'll go at once. being caught by a gust as she ascended the churchyard slope. and they both followed an irregular path. none for Miss Swancourt. they found themselves in a spacious court. "Man in the smock-frock. Stephen chose a flat tomb. as he still looked in the same direction.