wandered now into a cool dungeon； partly open to the air overhead；
where long arms of ivy hung between their eyes and the white sky。
While they were here； Lady Jane Joy and some other friends of the
viscount told Ethelberta that they were probably coming on to
Knollsea。
She instantly perceived that getting into close quarters in that way
might be very inconvenient； considering the youngsters she had under
her charge； and straightway decided upon a point that she had
debated for several daysa visit to her aunt in Normandy。 In
London it had been a mere thought； but the Channel had looked so
tempting from its brink that the journey was virtually fixed as soon
as she reached Knollsea； and found that a little pleasure steamer
crossed to Cherbourg once a week during the summer； so that she
would not have to enter the crowded routes at all。
'I am afraid I shall not see you in Knollsea；' she said。 'I am
about to go to Cherbourg and then to Rouen。'
'How sorry I am。 When do you leave？'
'At the beginning of next week；' said Ethelberta； settling the time
there and then。
'Did I hear you say that you were going to Cherbourg and Rouen？'
Lord Mountclere inquired。
'I think to do so；' said Ethelberta。
'I am going to Normandy myself；' said a voice behind her； and
without turning she knew that Neigh was standing there。
They next went outside； and Lord Mountclere offered Ethelberta his
arm on the ground of assisting her down the burnished grass slope。
Ethelberta； taking pity upon him； took it； but the assistance was
all on her side； she stood like a statue amid his slips and
totterings； some of which taxed her strength heavily； and her
ingenuity more； to appear as the supported and not the supporter。
The incident brought Neigh still further from his retirement； and
she learnt that he was one of a yachting party which had put in at
Knollsea that morning； she was greatly relieved to find that he was
just now on his way to London； whence he would probably proceed on
his journey abroad。
Ethelberta adhered as well as she could to her resolve that Neigh
should not speak with her alone； but by dint of perseverance he did
manage to address her without being overheard。
'Will you give me an answer？' said Neigh。 'I have come on purpose。'
'I cannot just now。 I have been led to doubt you。'
'Doubt me？ What new wrong have I done？'
'Spoken jestingly of my visit to Farnfield。'
'Good …！ I did not speak or think of you。 When I told that
incident I had no idea who the lady wasI did not know it was you
till two days later； and I at once held my tongue。 I vow to you
upon my soul and life that what I say is true。 How shall I prove my
truth better than by my errand here？'
'Don't speak of this now。 I am so occupied with other things。 I am
going to Rouen； and will think of it on my way。'
'I am going there too。 When do you go？'
'I shall be in Rouen next Wednesday； I hope。'
'May I ask where？'
'Hotel Beau Sejour。'
'Will you give me an answer there？ I can easily call upon you。 It
is now a month and more since you first led me to hope'
'I did not lead you to hopeat any rate clearly。'
'Indirectly you did。 And although I am willing to be as considerate
as any man ought to be in giving you time to think over the
question； there is a limit to my patience。 Any necessary delay I
will put up with； but I won't be trifled with。 I hate all nonsense；
and can't stand it。'
'Indeed。 Good morning。'
'But Mrs。 Petherwinjust one word。'
'I have nothing to say。'
'I will meet you at Rouen for an answer。 I would meet you in Hades
for the matter of that。 Remember this： next Wednesday； if I live；
I shall call upon you at Rouen。'
She did not say nay。
'May I？' he added。
'If you will。'
'But say it shall be an appointment？'
'Very well。'
Lord Mountclere was by this time toddling towards them to ask if
they would come on to his house； Enckworth Court； not very far
distant； to lunch with the rest of the party。 Neigh； having already
arranged to go on to town that afternoon； was obliged to decline；
and Ethelberta thought fit to do the same； idly asking Lord
Mountclere if Enckworth Court lay in the direction of a gorge that
was visible where they stood。
'No； considerably to the left；' he said。 'The opening you are
looking at would reveal the sea if it were not for the trees that
block the way。 Ah； those trees have a history； they are half…a…
dozen elms which I planted myself when I was a boy。 How time
flies！'
'It is unfortunate they stand just so as to cover the blue bit of
sea。 That addition would double the value of the view from here。'
'You would prefer the blue sea to the trees？'
'In that particular spot I should； they might have looked just as
well； and yet have hidden nothing worth seeing。 The narrow slit
would have been invaluable there。'
'They shall fall before the sun sets； in deference to your opinion；'
said Lord Mountclere。
'That would be rash indeed；' said Ethelberta； laughing； 'when my
opinion on such a point may be worth nothing whatever。'
'Where no other is acted upon； it is practically the universal one；'
he replied gaily。
And then Ethelberta's elderly admirer bade her adieu； and away the
whole party drove in a long train over the hills towards the valley
wherein stood Enckworth Court。 Ethelberta's carriage was supposed
by her friends to have been left at the village inn； as were many
others； and her retiring from view on foot attracted no notice。
She watched them out of sight； and she also saw the rest depart
those who； their interest in archaeology having begun and ended with
this spot； had； like herself； declined the hospitable viscount's
invitation； and started to drive or walk at once home again。
Thereupon the castle was quite deserted except by Ethelberta； the
ass； and the jackdaws； now floundering at ease again in and about
the ivy of the keep。
Not wishing to enter Knollsea till the evening shades were falling；
she still walked amid the ruins； examining more leisurely some
points which the stress of keeping herself companionable would not
allow her to attend to while the assemblage was present。 At the end
of the survey； being somewhat weary with her clambering； she sat
down on the slope commanding the gorge where the trees grew； to make
a pencil sketch of the landscape as it was revealed between the
ragged walls。 Thus engaged she weighed the circumstances of Lord
Mountclere's invitation； and could not be certain if it were
prudishness or simple propriety in herself which had instigated her
to refuse。 She would have liked the visit for many reasons； and if
Lord Mountclere had been anybody but a remarkably attentive old
widower； she would have gone。 As it was； it had occurred to her
that there was something in his tone which should lead her to
hesitate。 Were any among the elderly or married ladies who had
appeared upon the ground in a detached form as she had doneand
many had appeared thusinvited to Enckworth； and if not； why were
they not？ That Lord Mountclere admired her there was no doubt； and
for this reason it behoved her to be careful。 His disappointment at
parting from her was； in one aspect； simply laughable； from its odd
resemblance to the unfeigned sorrow of a boy of fifteen at a first
parting from his first love； in another aspect it caused reflection；
and she thought again of his curiosity about her doings for the
remainder of the summer。
While she sketched and thought thus； the shadows grew longer； and
the sun low。 And then she perceived a movement in the gorge。 One
of the trees forming the curtain across it began to wave strangely：
it went further to one side； and fell。 Where the tree had stood was
now a rent in the foliage； and through the narrow rent could be seen
the distant sea。
Ethelberta uttered a soft exclamation。 It was not caused by the
surprise she had felt； nor by the intrinsic interest of the sight；
nor by want of comprehension。 It was a sudden realization of vague
things hitherto dreamed of from a distance onlya sense of novel
power put into her hands without request or expectation。 A
landscape was to be altered to suit her whim。 She had in her
lifetime moved essentially larger mountains； but they had seemed of
far less splendid material than this； for it was the nature of the
gratification rather than its magnitude which enchanted the fancy of
a woman whose poetry； in spite of her necessities； was hardly yet
extinguished。 But there was something more； with which poetry had
little to do。 Whether the opinion of any pretty woman in England
was of more weight with Lord Mountclere than memories of his
boyhood； or whether that distinction was reserved for her alone；
this was a point that she would have liked to know。
The enjoyment of power in a new element； an enjoyment somewhat
resembling in kind that which is given by a first ride or swim； held
Ethelberta to the spot； and she waited； but sketched no more。
Another tree…top swayed and vanished as before； and the slit of sea
was larger still。 Her mind and eye were so occupied with this
matter that； sitting in her nook； she did not observe a thin young
man； his boots white with the dust of a long journey on foot； who
arrived at the castle by the valley…road from Knollsea。 He looked
awhile at the ruin； and； skirting its flank instead of entering by
the great gateway； climbed up the scarp and walked in through a
breach。 After standing for a moment among the walls； now silent and
apparently empty； with a disappointed look he descended the slope；
and proceeded along on his way。
Ethelberta； who was in quite another part of the castle； saw the
black spot diminishing to the size of a fly as he receded along the
dusty road； and soon after she descended on the other side； where
she remounted the ass； and ambled homeward as she had come； in no
bright mood。 What； seeing the precariousness of her state； was the
day's triumph worth after all； unless； before her beauty abated； she
could ensure her position against the attacks of chance？
'To be thus is nothing；
But to be safely thus。'
she said it more than once on her