of indecision； she began：
〃I'm so glad to see you again。 I didn't know you were still down
here。〃
〃I only came back to England yesterday； and I'm just here to see to
the packing of my things。〃
〃Oh！〃 murmured Barbara。 〃You know what's happening to me； I
suppose？〃
Mrs。 Noel smiled； looked up； and said： 〃I heard last night。 All joy
to you！〃
A lump rose in Barbara's throat。
〃I'm so glad to have seen you；〃 she murmured once more； 〃I expect I
ought to be getting on；〃 and with the word 〃 Good…bye；〃 gently
echoed； she rode away。
But her mood of delight was gone； even the horse Hal seemed to tread
unevenly； for all that he was going back to that stable which ever
appeared to him desirable ten minutes after he had left it。
Except that her eyes seemed darker； Mrs。 Noel had not changed。 If
she had shown the faintest sign of self…pity； the girl would never
have felt； as she did now； so sorry and upset。
Leaving the stables； she saw that the wind was driving up a huge；
white； shining cloud。 〃Isn't it going to be fine after all！〃 she
thought。
Re…entering the house by an old and so…called secret stairway that
led straight to the library； she had to traverse that great dark
room。 There； buried in an armchair in front of the hearth she saw
Miltoun with a book on his knee； not reading； but looking up at the
picture of the old Cardinal。 She hurried on； tiptoeing over the。
soft carpet； holding her breath； fearful of disturbing the queer
interview； feeling guilty； too； of her new knowledge； which she did
not mean to impart。 She had burnt her fingers once at the flame
between them； she would not do so a second time！
Through the window at the far end she saw that the cloud had burst；
it was raining furiously。 She regained her bedroom unseen。 In spite
of her joy out there on the moor； this last adventure of her girlhood
had not been all success； she had again the old sensations； the old
doubts； the dissatisfaction which she had thought dead。 Those two！
To shut one's eyes； and be happywas it possible！ A great rainbow；
the nearest she had ever seen； had sprung up in the park； and was
come to earth again in some fields close by。 The sun was shining out
already through the wind…driven bright rain。 Jewels of blue had
begun to star the black and white and golden clouds。 A strange white
light…ghost of Spring passing in this last violent outburst…painted
the leaves of every tree； and a hundred savage hues had come down
like a motley of bright birds on moor and fields。
The moment of desperate beauty caught Barbara by the throat。 Its
spirit of galloping wildness flew straight into her heart。 She
clasped her hands across her breast to try and keep that moment。 Far
out； a cuckoo hooted…and the immortal call passed on the wind。 In
that call all the beauty； and colour； and rapture of life seemed to
be flying by。 If she could only seize and evermore have it in her
heart； as the buttercups out there imprisoned the sun； or the fallen
raindrops on the sweetbriars round the windows enclosed all changing
light！ If only there were no chains； no walls； and finality were
dead！
Her clock struck ten。 At this time to…morrow！ Her cheeks turned
hot； in a mirror she could see them burning； her lips scornfully
curved； her eyes strange。 Standing there； she looked long at
herself； till； little by little； her face lost every vestige of that
disturbance； became solid and resolute again。 She ceased to have the
galloping wild feeling in her heart； and instead felt cold。 Detached
from herself she watched； with contentment； her own calm and radiant
beauty resume the armour it had for that moment put off。
After dinner that night； when the men left the dining…hall； Miltoun
slipped away to his den。 Of all those present in the little church
he had seemed most unemotional； and had been most moved。 Though it
had been so quiet and private a wedding； he had resented all cheap
festivity accompanying the passing of his young sister。 He would
have had that ceremony in the little dark disused chapel at the
Court； those two； and the priest alone。 Here； in this half…pagan
little country church smothered hastily in flowers； with the raw
singing of the half…pagan choir； and all the village curiosity and
homage…everything had jarred； and the stale aftermath sickened him。
Changing his swallow…tail to an old smoking jacket； he went out on to
the lawn。 In the wide darkness he could rid himself of his
exasperation。
Since the day of his election he had not once been at Monkland； since
Mrs。 Noel's flight he had never left London。 In London and work he
had buried himself； by London and work he had saved himself！ He had
gone down into the battle。
Dew had not yet fallen； and he took the path across the fields。
There was no moon； no stars； no wind； the cattle were noiseless under
the trees； there were no owls calling； no night…jars churring； the
fly…by…night chafers were not abroad。 The stream alone was alive in
the quiet darkness。 And as Miltoun followed the wispy line of grey
path cleaving the dim glamour of daisies and buttercups； there came
to him the feeling that he was in the presence； not of sleep； but of
eternal waiting。 The sound of his footfalls seemed desecration。 So
devotional was that hush； burning the spicy incense of millions of
leaves and blades of grass。
Crossing the last stile he came out； close to her deserted cottage；
under her lime…tree； which on the night of Courtier's adventure had
hung blue…black round the moon。 On that side； only a rail； and a few
shrubs confined her garden。
The house was all dark； but the many tall white flowers； like a
bright vapour rising from earth； clung to the air above the beds。
Leaning against the tree Miltoun gave himself to memory。
》From the silent boughs which drooped round his dark figure； a little
sleepy bird uttered a faint cheep； a hedgehog； or some small beast of
night； rustled away in the grass close by； a moth flew past； seeking
its candle flame。 And something in Miltoun's heart took wings after
it； searching for the warmth and light of his blown candle of love。
Then； in the hush he heard a sound as of a branch ceaselessly trailed
through long grass； fainter and fainter； more and more distinct；
again fainter； but nothing could he see that should make that
homeless sound。 And the sense of some near but unseen presence crept
on him； till the hair moved on his scalp。 If God would light the
moon or stars； and let him see！ If God would end the expectation of
this night； let one wan glimmer down into her garden； and one wan
glimmer into his breast！ But it stayed dark； and the homeless noise
never ceased。 The weird thought came to Miltoun that it was made by
his own heart； wandering out there； trying to feel warm again。 He
closed his eyes and at once knew that it was not his heart； but
indeed some external presence； unconsoled。 And stretching his hands
out he moved forward to arrest that sound。 As he reached the
railing； it ceased。 And he saw a flame leap up； a pale broad pathway
of light blanching the grass。
And； realizing that she was there； within； he gasped。 His finger…
nails bent and broke against the iron railing without his knowing。
It was not as on that night when the red flowers on her windowsill
had wafted their scent to him； it was no sheer overpowering rush of
passion。 Profounder； more terrible； was this rising up within him of
yearning for loveas if； now defeated； it would nevermore stir； but
lie dead on that dark grass beneath those dark boughs。 And if
victoriouswhat then？ He stole back under the tree。
He could see little white moths travelling down that path of
lamplight； he could see the white flowers quite plainly now； a pale
watch of blossoms guarding the dark sleepy ones； and he stood； not
reasoning； hardly any longer feeling； stunned； battered by struggle。
His face and hands were sticky with the honey…dew； slowly； invisibly
distilling from the lime…tree。 He bent down and felt the grass。 And
suddenly there came over him the certainty of her presence。 Yes； she
was thereout on the verandah！ He could see her white figure from
head to foot； and； not realizing that she could not see him； he
expected her to utter some cry。 But no sound came from her； no
gesture； she turned back into the house。 Miltoun ran forward to the
railing。 But there； once more； he stoppedunable to think； unable
to feel； as it were abandoned by himself。 And he suddenly found his
hand up at his mouth； as though there were blood there to be
staunched that had escaped from his heart。
Still holding that hand before his mouth； and smothering the sound of
his feet in the long grass； he crept away。
CHAPTER XXX
In the great glass house at Ravensham； Lady Casterley stood close to
some Japanese lilies； with a letter in her hand。 Her face was very
white； for it was the first day she had been allowed down after an
attack of influenza； nor had the hand in which she held the letter
its usual steadiness。 She read：
〃MONKLAND COURT。
〃Just a line； dear； before the post goes； to tell you that Babs has
gone off happily。 The child looked beautiful。 She sent you her
love； and some absurd messagethat you would be glad to hear； she
was perfectly safe； with both feet firmly on the ground。〃
A grim little smile played on Lady Casterley's pale lips：… Yes；
indeed； and time too！ The child had been very near the edge of the
cliffs！ Very near committing a piece of romantic folly！ That was
well over！ And raising the letter again； she read on：
〃We were all down for it； of course； and come back tomorrow。
Geoffrey is quite cut up。 Things can't be what they were without our
Babs。 I've watched Eustace very carefully； and I really believe he's
safely over that affair at last。 He is doing extraordinarily well in
the House just now。 Geoffrey says his speech on the Poor Law was
head and shoulders the best made。〃
Lady Casterley let fall the hand which held the letter。 Safe？ Yes；
he was safe！ He had done the rightthe natural thing！ And in time
he would be happy！ He would rise now to that pinnac