〃You never came after us； Frank。〃
〃No； I found I couldn't。〃
〃Look！ We picked such lovely late violets！〃 She held out a bunch。 Ashurst put his nose to them； and there stirred within him vague longings； chilled instantly by a vision of Megan's anxious face lifted to the faces of the passers…by。
He said shortly： 〃How jolly！〃 and turned away。 He went up to his room； and； avoiding the children； who were coming up the stairs； threw himself on his bed； and lay there with his arms crossed over his face。 Now that he felt the die really cast； and Megan given up； he hated himself； and almost hated the Hallidays and their atmosphere of healthy； happy English homes。
Why should they have chanced here； to drive away first loveto show him that he was going to be no better than a common seducer？ What right had Stella； with her fair； shy beauty； to make him know for certain that he would never marry Megan； and； tarnishing it all； bring him such bitterness of regretful longing and such pity？ Megan would be back by now； worn out by her miserable seekingpoor little thing！expecting； perhaps； to find him there when she reached home。 Ashurst bit at his sleeve； to stifle a groan of remorseful longing。 He went to dinner glum and silent； and his mood threw a dinge even over the children。 It was a melancholy； rather ill tempered evening； for they were all tired； several times he caught Stella looking at him with a hurt； puzzled expression； and this pleased his evil mood。 He slept miserably； got up quite early； and wandered out。 He went down to the beach。 Alone there with the serene； the blue； the sunlit sea； his heart relaxed a little。 Conceited foolto think that Megan would take it so hard！ In a week or two she would almost have forgotten！ And he well； he would have the reward of virtue！ A good young man！ If Stella knew； she would give him her blessing for resisting that devil she believed in； and he uttered a hard laugh。 But slowly the peace and beauty of sea and sky； the flight of the lonely seagulls； made him feel ashamed。 He bathed； and turned homewards。
In the Crescent gardens Stella herself was sitting on a camp stool； sketching。 He stole up close behind。 How fair and pretty she was； bent diligently； holding up her brush； measuring； wrinkling her brows。
He said gently：
〃Sorry I was such a beast last night； Stella。〃
She turned round； startled； flushed very pink； and said in her quick way：
〃It's all right。 I knew there was something。 Between friends it doesn't matter； does it？〃
Ashurst answered：
〃Between friendsand we are； aren't we？〃
She looked up at him； nodded vehemently； and her upper teeth gleamed again in that swift； brilliant smile。
Three days later he went back to London； travelling with the Hallidays。 He had not written to the farm。 What was there he could say？
On the last day of April in the following year he and Stella were married。。。。
Such were Ashurst's memories； sitting against the wall among the gorse； on his silver…wedding day。 At this very spot； where he had laid out the lunch； Megan must have stood outlined against the sky when he had first caught sight of her。 Of all queer coincidences！ And there moved in him a longing to go down and see again the farm and the orchard； and the meadow of the gipsy bogle。 It would not take long； Stella would be an hour yet； perhaps。
How well he remembered it allthe little crowning group of pine trees； the steep…up grass hill behind！ He paused at the farm gate。 The low stone house； the yew…tree porch； the flowering currantsnot changed a bit； even the old green chair was out there on the grass under the window； where he had reached up to her that night to take the key。 Then he turned down the lane； and stood leaning on the orchard gate…grey skeleton of a gate； as then。 A black pig even was wandering in there among the trees。 Was it true that twenty…six years had passed； or had he dreamed and awakened to find Megan waiting for him by the big apple tree？ Unconsciously he put up his hand to his grizzled beard and brought himself back to reality。 Opening the gate； he made his way down through the docks and nettles till he came to the edge； and the old apple tree itself。 Unchanged！ A little more of the greygreen lichen； a dead branch or two； and for the rest it might have been only last night that he had embraced that mossy trunk after Megan's flight and inhaled its woody savour； while above his head the moonlit blossom had seemed to breathe and live。 In that early spring a few buds were showing already； the blackbirds shouting their songs； a cuckoo calling； the sunlight bright and warm。 Incredibly the same…the chattering trout…stream； the narrow pool he had lain in every morning； splashing the water over his flanks and chest； and out there in the wild meadow the beech clump and the stone where the gipsy bogie was supposed to sit。 And an ache for lost youth； a hankering； a sense of wasted love and sweetness； gripped Ashurst by the throat。 Surely； on this earth of such wild beauty； one was meant to hold rapture to one's heart； as this earth and sky held it！ And yet； one could not！
He went to the edge of the stream； and looking down at the little pool； thought： 'Youth and spring！ What has become of them all； I wonder？'
And then； in sudden fear of having this memory jarred by human encounter； he went back to the lane； and pensively retraced his steps to the crossroads。
Beside the car an old； grey…bearded labourer was leaning on a stick； talking to the chauffeur。 He broke off at once； as though guilty of disrespect； and touching his hat； prepared to limp on down the lane。
Ashurst pointed to the narrow green mound。 〃Can you tell me what this is？〃
The old fellow stopped； on his face had come a look as though he were thinking： 'You've come to the right shop； mister！'
〃'Tes a grave；〃 he said。
〃But why out here？〃
The old man smiled。 〃That's a tale； as yu may say。 An' not the first time as I've a…told etthere's plenty folks asks 'bout that bit o' turf。 'Maid's Grave' us calls et； 'ereabouts。〃
Ashurst held out his pouch。 〃Have a fill？〃
The old man touched his hat again； and slowly filled an old clay pipe。 His eyes； looking upward out of a mass of wrinkles and hair； were still quite bright。
〃If yu don' mind； zurr； I'll zet down my leg's 'urtin' a bit today。〃 And he sat down on the mound of turf。
〃There's always a flower on this grave。 An' 'tain't so very lonesome； neither； brave lot o' folks goes by now； in they new motor cars an' thingsnot as 'twas in th' old days。 She've a got company up 'ere。 'Twas a poor soul killed 'erself。〃
〃I see！〃 said Ashurst。 〃Cross…roads burial。 I didn't know that custom was kept up。〃
〃Ah！ but 'twas a main long time ago。 Us 'ad a parson as was very God…fearin' then。 Let me see； I've a 'ad my pension six year come Michaelmas； an' I were just on fifty when t'appened。 There's none livin' knows more about et than what I du。 She belonged close 'ere； same farm as where I used to work along o' Mrs。 Narracombe 'tes Nick Narracombe's now； I dus a bit for 'im still； odd times。〃
Ashurst； who was leaning against the gate； lighting his pipe； left his curved hands before his face for long after the flame of the match had gone out。
〃Yes？〃 he said； and to himself his voice sounded hoarse and queer。
〃She was one in an 'underd； poor maid！ I putts a flower 'ere every time I passes。 Pretty maid an' gude maid she was； though they wouldn't burry 'er up to th' church； nor where she wanted to be burried neither。〃 The old labourer paused； and put his hairy； twisted hand flat down on the turf beside the bluebells。
〃Yes？〃 said Ashurst。
〃In a manner of speakin'；〃 the old man went on； 〃I think as 'twas a love…storythough there's no one never knu for zartin。 Yu can't tell what's in a maid's 'ead but that's wot I think about it。〃 He drew his hand along the turf。 〃I was fond o' that maiddon' know as there was anyone as wasn' fond of 'er。 But she was to lovin'… 'eartedthat's where 'twas； I think。〃 He looked up。 And Ashurst； whose lips were trembling in the cover of his beard； murmured again： 〃Yes？〃
〃'Twas in the spring； 'bout now as 't might be； or a little later blossom timean' we 'ad one o' they young college gentlemen stayin' at the farm…nice feller tu； with 'is 'ead in the air。 I liked 'e very well； an' I never see nothin' between 'em； but to my thinkin' 'e turned the maid's fancy。〃 The old man took the pipe out of his mouth； spat； and went on：
〃Yu see； 'e went away sudden one day； an' never come back。 They got 'is knapsack and bits o' things down there still。 That's what stuck in my mind'is never sendin' for 'em。 'Is name was Ashes； or somethen' like that。〃
〃Yes？〃 said Ashurst once more。
The old man licked his lips。
〃'Er never said nothin'； but from that day 'er went kind of dazed lukin'； didn'seem rightly therr at all。 I never knu a'uman creature so changed in me lifenever。 There was another young feller at the farmJoe Biddaford 'is name wer'； that was praaperly sweet on 'er； tu； I guess 'e used to plague 'er wi 'is attentions。 She got to luke quite wild。 I'd zee her sometimes of an avenin' when I was bringin' up the calves； ther' she'd stand in th' orchard； under the big apple tree； lukin' straight before 'er。 'Well；' I used t'think； 'I dunno what 'tes that's the matter wi' yu； but yu'm lukin' pittiful； that yu be！'〃
The old man refit his pipe； and sucked at it reflectively。
〃Yes？〃 said Ashurst。
〃I remembers one day I said to 'er： 'What's the matter； Megan？''er name was Megan David； she come from Wales same as 'er aunt； ol' Missis Narracombe。 'Yu'm frettin' about somethin'。 I says。 'No； Jim；' she says； 'I'm not frettin'。' 'Yes； yu be！' I says。 'No；' she says； and to tears cam' rollin' out。 'Yu'm cryin'what's that； then？' I says。 She putts 'er 'and over 'er 'eart： 'It 'urts me；' she says； 'but 'twill sune be better；' she says。 'But if anything shude 'appen to me； Jim； I wants to be burried under this 'ere apple tree。' I laughed。 'What's goin' to 'appen to yu？' I says； 'don't 'ee be fulish。' 'No；' she says； ' I won't be fulish。' Well； I know what maids are； an' I never thought no more about et； till two days arter that； 'b