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be more than ever the bosom friend of Mrs。 Phillips spend hours amid that hideous furniture； surrounded by those bilious wallpapers。 Of course he could not come to her。 She hoped he would appreciate the sacrifice she would be making for him。 Fortunately Mrs。 Phillips would give no trouble。 She would not even understand。
What about Hilda？ No hope of hiding their secret from those sharp eyes。 But Hilda would approve。 They could trust Hilda。 The child might prove helpful。
It cast a passing shadow upon her spirits； this necessary descent into details。 It brought with it the suggestion of intrigue； of deceit： robbing the thing； to a certain extent； of its fineness。 Still； what was to be done？ If women were coming into public life these sort of relationships with men would have to be faced and worked out。 Sex must no longer be allowed to interfere with the working together of men and women for common ends。 It was that had kept the world back。 They would be the pioneers of the new order。 Casting aside their earthly passions； humbly with pure hearts they would kneel before God's altar。 He should bless their union。
A lark was singing。 She stood listening。 Higher and higher he rose； pouring out his song of worship； till the tiny； fragile body disappeared as if fallen from him； leaving his sweet soul still singing。 The happy tears came to her eyes； and she passed on。 She did not hear that little last faint sob with which he sank exhausted back to earth beside a hidden nest among the furrows。
She had forgotten the time。 It was already late afternoon。 Her long walk and the keen air had made her hungry。 She had a couple of eggs with her tea at a village inn； and was fortunate enough to catch a train that brought her back in time for dinner。 A little ashamed of her unresponsiveness the night before； she laid herself out to be sympathetic to her father's talk。 She insisted on hearing again all that he and Arthur were doing； opposing him here and there with criticism just sufficient to stimulate him； careful in the end to let him convince her。
These small hypocrisies were new to her。 She hoped she was not damaging her character。 But it was good； watching him slyly from under drawn…down lids； to see the flash of triumph that would come into his tired eyes in answer to her half…protesting： 〃Yes； I see your point； I hadn't thought of that；〃 her half reluctant admission that 〃perhaps〃 he was right； there； that 〃perhaps〃 she was wrong。 It was delightful to see him young again； eager； boyishly pleased with himself。 It seemed there was a joy she had not dreamed of in yielding victory as well as in gaining it。 A new tenderness was growing up in her。 How considerate； how patient； how self… forgetful he had always been。 She wanted to mother him。 To take him in her arms and croon over him； hushing away remembrance of the old sad days。
Folk's words came back to her： 〃And poor Jack Allway。 Tell him I thank him for all those years of love and gentleness。〃 She gave him the message。
Folk had been right。 He was not offended。 〃Dear old chap；〃 he said。 〃That was kind of him。 He was always generous。〃
He was silent for a while； with a quiet look on his face。
〃Give him our love；〃 he said。 〃Tell him we came together； at the end。〃
It was on her tongue to ask him； as so often she had meant to do of late； what had been the cause of her mother's illnessif illness it was： what it was that had happened to change both their lives。 But always something had stopped hersomething ever present； ever watchful； that seemed to shape itself out of the air； bending towards her with its finger on its lips。
She stayed over the week…end； and on the Saturday； at her suggestion； they took a long excursion into the country。 It was the first time she had ever asked him to take her out。 He came down to breakfast in a new suit； and was quite excited。 In the car his hand had sought hers shyly； and； feeling her responsive pressure； he had continued to hold it； and they had sat for a long time in silence。 She decided not to tell him about Phillips； just yet。 He knew of him only from the Tory newspapers and would form a wrong idea。 She would bring them together and leave Phillips to make his own way。 He would like Phillips when he knew him； she felt sure。 He； too； was a people's man。 The torch passed down to him from his old Ironside ancestors； it still glowed。 More than once she had seen it leap to flame。 In congenial atmosphere； it would burn clear and steadfast。 It occurred to her what a delightful solution of her problem； if later on her father could be persuaded to leave Arthur in charge of the works； and come to live with her in London。 There was a fine block of flats near Chelsea Church with long views up and down the river。 How happy they could be there； the drawing…room in the Adams style with wine…coloured curtains！ He was a father any young woman could be proud to take about。 Unconsciously she gave his hand an impulsive squeeze。 They lunched at an old inn upon the moors； and the landlady； judging from his shy； attentive ways； had begun by addressing her as Madame。
〃You grow wonderfully like your mother；〃 he told her that evening at dinner。 〃There used to be something missing。 But I don't feel that； now。〃
She wrote to Phillips to meet her； if possible； at Euston。 There were things she wanted to talk to him about。 There was the question whether she should go on writing for Carleton； or break with him at once。 Also one or two points that were worrying her in connection with tariff reform。 He was waiting for her on the platform。 It appeared he； too； had much to say。 He wanted her advice concerning his next speech。 He had not dined and suggested supper。 They could not walk about the streets。 Likely enough； it was only her imagination； but it seemed to her that people in the restaurant had recognized him； and were whispering to one another： he was bound to be well known。 Likewise her own appearance； she felt； was against them as regarded their desire to avoid observation。 She would have to take to those mousey colours that did not suit her； and wear a veil。 She hated the idea of a veil。 It came from the East and belonged there。 Besides； what would be the use？ Unless he wore one too。 〃Who is the veiled woman that Phillips goes about with？〃 That is what they would ask。 It was going to be very awkward； the whole thing。 Viewed from the distance； it had looked quite fine。 〃Dedicating herself to the service of Humanity〃 was how it had presented itself to her in the garden at Meudon； the twinkling labyrinth of Paris at her feet； its sordid by…ways hidden beneath its myriad lights。 She had not bargained for the dedication involving the loss of her self… respect。
They did not talk as much as they had thought they would。 He was not very helpful on the Carleton question。 There was so much to be said both for and against。 It might be better to wait and see how circumstances shaped themselves。 She thought his speech excellent。 It was difficult to discover any argument against it。
He seemed to be more interested in looking at her when he thought she was not noticing。 That little f