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has　a　niece。

〃No　doubt；〃　she　murmured。

Something　vague　moved　deep　down　in　the　Colonel；　he　stretched　out
his　hand。　　In　that　strip　of　gloom　between　the　beds　it　encountered
another　hand；　which　squeezed　it　rather　hard。

He　said：　〃Look　here；　old　girl！〃　and　there　was　silence。

Mrs。　Ercott　in　her　turn　was　thinking。　　Her　thoughts　were　flat　and
rapid　like　her　voice；　but　had　that　sort　of　sentiment　which
accompanies　the　mental　exercise　of　women　with　good　hearts。　　Poor
young　man！　　And　poor　Olive！　　But　was　a　woman　ever　to　be　pitied；
when　she　was　so　pretty　as　that！　　Besides；　when　all　was　said　and
done；　she　had　a　fine…looking　man　for　husband；　in　Parliament；　with　a
career；　and　fond　of　herdecidedly。　　And　their　little　house　in
London；　so　close　to　Westminster；　was　a　distinct　dear；　and　nothing
could　be　more　charming　than　their　cottage　by　the　river。　　Was　Olive；
then；　to　be　pitied？　　And　yetshe　was　not　happy。　　It　was　no　good
pretending　that　she　was　happy。　　All　very　well　to　say　that　such
things　were　within　one's　control；　but　if　you　read　novels　at　all；
you　knew　they　weren't。　　There　was　such　a　thing　as　incompatibility。
Oh　yes！　　And　there　was　the　matter　of　difference　in　their　ages！
Olive　was　twenty…six；　Robert　Cramier　forty…two。　　And　now　this　young
Mark　Lennan　was　in　love　with　her。　　What　if　she　were　in　love　with
him！　　John　would　realize　then；　perhaps；　that　the　young　flew　to　the
young。　　For　meneven　the　best；　like　John；　were　funny！　　She　would
never　dream　of　feeling　for　any　of　her　nephews　as　John　clearly　felt
for　Olive。

The　Colonel's　voice　broke　in　on　her　thoughts。

〃Nice　young　fellowLennan！　　Great　pity！　　Better　sheer　offif　he's
getting〃

And；　rather　suddenly；　she　answered：

〃Suppose　he　can't！〃

〃Can't？〃

〃Did　you　never　hear　of　a　'grande　passion'？〃

The　Colonel　rose　on　his　elbow。　　This　was　another　of　those　occasions
that　showed　him　how；　during　the　later　years　of　his　service　in
Madras　and　Upper　Burmah；　when　Dolly's　health　had　not　been　equal　to
the　heat；　she　had　picked　up　in　London　a　queer　way　of　looking　at
thingsas　if　they　were　notnot　so　right　or　wrong　asas　he　felt
them　to　be。　　And　he　repeated　those　two　French　words　in　his　own　way；
adding：

〃Isn't　that　just　what　I'm　saying？　　The　sooner　he　stands　clear；　the
better。〃

But　Mrs。　Ercott；　too；　sat　up。

〃Be　human；〃　she　said。

The　Colonel　experienced　the　same　sensation　as　when　one　suddenly
knows　that　one　is　not　digesting　food。　　Because　young　Lennan　was　in
danger　of　getting　into　a　dishonourable　fix；　he　was　told　to　be
human！　　Really；　Dolly　was！　　The　white　blur　of　her　new　boudoir　cap
suddenly　impinged　on　his　consciousness。　　Surely　she　was　not
gettingun…English！　　At　her　time　of　life！

〃I'm　thinking　of　Olive；〃　he　said；　〃I　don't　want　her　worried　with
that　sort　of　thing。〃

〃Perhaps　Olive　can　manage　for　herself。　　In　these　days　it　doesn't　do
to　interfere　with　love。〃

〃Love！〃　muttered　the　Colonel。　　〃What？　　Phew！〃

If　one's　own　wife　called　thisthis　sort　ofthing；　lovethen；　why
had　he　been　faithful　to　herin　very　hot　climatesall　these　years？
A　sense　of　waste；　and　of　injustice；　tried　to　rear　its　head　against
all　the　side　of　him　that　attached　certain　meanings　to　certain
words；　and　acted　up　to　them。　　And　this　revolt　gave　him　a　feeling；
strange　and　so　unpleasant。　　Love！　　It　was　not　a　word　to　use　thus
loosely！　　Love　led　to　marriage；　this　could　not　lead　to　marriage；
except　throughthe　Divorce　Court。　　And　suddenly　the　Colonel　had　a
vision　of　his　dead　brother　Lindsay；　Olive's　father；　standing　there
in　the　dark；　with　his　grave；　clear…cut；　ivory…pale　face；　under　the
black　hair　supposed　to　be　derived　from　a　French　ancestress　who　had
escaped　from　the　massacre　of　St。　Bartholomew。　　Upright　fellow
always；　Lindsayeven　before　he　was　made　bishop！　　Queer　somehow
that　Olive　should　be　his　daughter。　　Not　that　she　was　not　upright；
not　at　all！　　But　she　was　soft！　　Lindsay　was　not！　　Imagine　him
seeing　that　young　fellow　putting　her　handkerchief　in　his　pocket。
But　had　young　Lennan　really　done　such　a　thing？　　Dolly　was
imaginative！　　He　had　mistaken　it　probably　for　his　own；　if　he　had
chanced　to　blow　his　nose；　he　would　have　realized。　　For；　coupled
with　the　almost　child…like　candour　of　his　mind；　the　Colonel　had
real　administrative　vigour；　a　true　sense　of　practical　values；　an
ounce　of　illustration　was　always　worth　to　him　a　pound　of　theory！
Dolly　was　given　to　riding　off　on　theories。　　Thank　God！　she　never
acted　on　'em！

He　said　gently：

〃My　dear！　　Young　Lennan　may　be　an　artist　and　all　that；　but　he's　a
gentleman！　　I　know　old　Heatherley；　his　guardian。　　Why　I　introduced
him　to　Olive　myself！〃

〃What　has　that　to　do　with　it？　　He's　in　love　with　her。〃

One　of　the　countless　legion　that　hold　a　creed　taken　at　face　value；
into　whose　roots　and　reasons　they　have　never　dreamed　of　going；　the
Colonel　was　staggered。　　Like　some　native　on　an　island　surrounded　by
troubled　seas；　which　he　has　stared　at　with　a　certain　contemptuous
awe　all　his　life；　but　never　entered；　he　was　disconcerted　by　thus
being　asked　to　leave　the　shore。　　And　by　his　own　wife！

Indeed；　Mrs。　Ercott　had　not　intended　to　go　so　far；　but　there　was　in
her；　as　in　all　women　whose　minds　are　more　active　than　their
husbands'；　a　something　worrying　her　always　to　go　a　little　farther
than　she　meant。　　With　real　compunction　she　heard　the　Colonel　say：

〃I　must　get　up　and　drink　some　water。〃

She　was　out　of　bed　in　a　moment。　　〃Not　without　boiling！〃

She　had　seriously　troubled　him；　then！　　Now　he　would　not　sleepthe
blood　went　to　his　head　so　quickly。　　He　would　just　lie　awake；　trying
not　to　disturb　her。　　She　could　not　bear　him　not　to　disturb　her。　　It
seemed　so　selfish　of　her！　　She　ought　to　have　known　that　the　whole
subject　was　too　dangerous　to　discuss　at　night。

She　became　conscious　that　he　was　standing　just　behind　her；　his
figure　in　its　thin　covering　looked　very　lean；　his　face　strangely
worn。

〃I'm　sorry　you　put　that　idea　into　my　head！〃　he　said。　　〃I'm　fond　of
Olive。〃

Again　Mrs。　Ercott　felt　that　jealous　twinge；　soon　lost　this　time　in
the　motherliness　of　a　childless　woman　for　her　husband。　　He　must　not
be　troubled！　　He　should　not　be　troubled。　　And　she　said：

〃The　water's　boiling！　　Now　sip　a　good　glass　slowly；　and　get　into
bed；　or　I'll　take　your　temperature！〃

Obediently　the　Colonel　took　from　her　the　glass；　and　as　he　sipped；
she　put　her　hand　up　and　stroked　his　head。


IV


In　the　room　below　them　the　subject　of　their　discussion　was　lying
very　wide　awake。　　She　knew　that　she　had　betrayed　herself；　made
plain　to　Mark　Lennan　what　she　had　never　until　now　admitted　to
herself。　　But　the　love…look；　which　for　the　life　of　her　she　could
not　keep　back；　had　been　followed　by　a　feeling　of　having　'lost
caste。'　　For；　hitherto；　the　world　of　women　had　been　strictly
divided　by　her　into　those　who　did　and　those　who　did　not　do　such
things；　and　to　be　no　longer　quite　sure　to　which　half　she　belonged
was　frightening。　　But　what　was　the　good　of　thinking；　of　being
frightened？it　could　not　lead　to　anything。　　Yesterday　she　had　not
known　this　would　come；　and　now　she　could　not　guess　at　to…morrow！
To…night　was　enough！　　To…night　with　its　swimming　loveliness！　　Just
to　feel！　　To　love；　and　to　be　loved！

A　new　sensation　for　heras　different　from　those　excited　by　the
courtships　of　her　girlhood；　or　by　her　marriage；　as　light　from
darkness。　　For　she　had　never　been　in　love；　not　even　with　her
husband。　　She　knew　it　now。　　The　sun　was　shining　in　a　world　where
she　had　thought　there　was　none。　　Nothing　could　come　of　it。　　But　the
sun　was　shining；　and　in　that　sunshine　she　must　warm　herself　a
little。

Quite　simply　she　began　to　plan　what　he　and　she　would　do。　　There
were　six　days　left。　　They　had　not　yet　been　to　Gorbio；　nor　to
Castellarnone　of　those　long　walks　or　rides　they　had　designed　to
do　for　the　beauty　of　them。　　Would　he　come　early　to…morrow？　　What
could　they　do　together？　　No　one　should　know　what　these　six　days
would　be　to　hernot　even　he。　　To　be　with　him；　watch　his　face；　hear
his　voice；　and　now　and　then　just　touch　him！　　She　could　trust
herself　to　show　no　one。　　And　then；　it　would　beover！　　Though；　of
course；　she　would　see　him　again　in　London。

And；　lying　there　in　the　dark；　she　thought　of　their　first　meeting；
one　Sunday　morning；　in　Hyde　Park。　　The　Colonel　religiously　observed
Church　Parade；　and　would　even　come　all　the　way　down　to　Westminster；
from　his　flat　near　Knightsbridge；　in　order　to　fetch　his　niece　up　to
it。　　She　remembered　how；　during　their　stroll；　he　had　stopped
suddenly　in　front　of　an　old　gentleman　with　a　puffy　yellow　face　and
eyes　half　open。

〃Ah！　　Mr。　Heatherleyyou　up　from　Devonshire？　　How's　your　nephew
theersculptor？〃

And　the　old　gentleman；　glaring　a　little；　as　it　seemed　to　her；　from
under　his　eyelids　and　his　grey　top　hat；　had　answered：　〃Colonel
Ercott；　I　think？　　Here's　the　fellow　himselfMark！〃　　And　a　young
man　had　taken　off　his　hat。　　She　had　only　noticed　at　first　that　his
dark　hair　grewnot　longbut　very　thick；　and　that　his　eyes　were
very　deep…set。　　Then　she　saw　him　smile；　it　made　his　face　all　eager；
yet　left　it　shy；　and　she　decided　that　he　was　nice。　　Soon　after；　she
had　gone　with　the　Ercotts　to　see　his　'things'；　for　it　was；　of
course；　and　especially　in　those　days；　quite　an　event　to　know　a
sculptorrather