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fork of the old ash…tree； and； like a stricken beast； went
hurrying； stumbling away； amongst the stones and bracken。 She ran
thus perhaps a quarter of a mile； then threw up her arms； fell down
amongst the fern； and lay there on her face。 At first her heart
hurt her so that she felt nothing but that physical pain。 If she
could have died！ But she knew it was nothing but breathlessness。
It left her； and that which took its place she tried to drive away
by pressing her breast against the ground； by clutching the stalks
of the brackenan ache； an emptiness too dreadful！ Youth to
youth！ He was gone from herand she was alone again！ She did not
cry。 What good in crying？ But gusts of shame kept sweeping
through her； shame and rage。 So this was all she was worth！ The
sun struck hot on her back in that lair of tangled fern； where she
had fallen； she felt faint and sick。 She had not known till now
quite what this passion for the boy had meant to her； how much of
her very belief in herself was bound up with it； how much clinging
to her own youth。 What bitterness！ One soft slip of a white girl
one YOUNG thingand she had become as nothing！ But was that
true？ Could she not even now wrench him back to her with the
passion that this child knew nothing of！ Surely！ Oh； surely！ Let
him but once taste the rapture she could give him！ And at that
thought she ceased clutching at the bracken stalks； lying as still
as the very stones around her。 Could she not？ Might she not； even
now？ And all feeling； except just a sort of quivering； deserted
heras if she had fallen into a trance。 Why spare this girl？ Why
falter？ She was first！ He had been hers out there。 And she still
had the power to draw him。 At dinner the first evening she had
dragged his gaze to her； away from that girlaway from youth； as a
magnet draws steel。 She could still bind him with chains that for
a little while at all events he would not want to break！ Bind him？
Hateful word！ Take him； hankering after what she could not give
himyouth； white innocence； Spring？ It would be infamous；
infamous！ She sprang up from the fern； and ran along the hillside；
not looking where she went； stumbling among the tangled growth； in
and out of the boulders； till she once more sank breathless on to a
stone。 It was bare of trees just here； and she could see； across
the river valley； the high larch…crowned tor on the far side。 The
sky was clearthe sun bright。 A hawk was wheeling over that hill；
far up； very near the blue！ Infamous！ She could not do that！
Could not drug him； drag him to her by his senses； by all that was
least high in him； when she wished for him all the finest things
that life could give； as if she had been his mother。 She could
not。 It would be wicked！ In that moment of intense spiritual
agony； those two down there in the sun； by the grey stone and the
dark water； seemed guarded from her； protected。 The girl's white
flower…face trembling up； the boy's gaze leaping down！ Strange
that a heart which felt that； could hate at the same moment that
flower…face； and burn to kill with kisses that eagerness in the
boy's eyes。 The storm in her slowly passed。 And she prayed just
to feel nothing。 It was natural that she should lose her hour！
Natural that her thirst should go unslaked； and her passion never
bloom； natural that youth should go to youth； this boy to his own
kind； by the law oflove。 The breeze blowing down the valley
fanned her cheeks； and brought her a faint sensation of relief。
Nobility！ Was it just a word？ Or did those that gave up happiness
feel noble？
She wandered for a long time in the park。 Not till late afternoon
did she again pass out by the gate； through which she had entered；
full of hope。 She met no one before she reached her room； and
there； to be safe； took refuge in her bed。 She dreaded only lest
the feeling of utter weariness should leave her。 She wanted no
vigour of mind or body till she was away from here。 She meant
neither to eat nor drink； only to sleep； if she could。 To…morrow；
if there were any early train； she could be gone before she need
see anyone； her husband must arrange。 As to what he would think；
and she could saytime enough to decide that。 And what did it
matter？ The one vital thing now was not to see the boy； for she
could not again go through hours of struggle like those。 She rang
the bell； and sent the startled maid with a message to her husband。
And while she waited for him to come； her pride began revolting。
She must not let him see。 That would be horrible。 And slipping
out of bed she got a handkerchief and the eau…de…Cologne flask； and
bandaged her forehead。 He came almost instantly； entering in his
quick； noiseless way； and stood looking at her。 He did not ask
what was the matter； but simply waited。 And never before had she
realized so completely how he began； as it were； where she left
off； began on a plane from which instinct and feeling were as
carefully ruled out as though they had been blasphemous。 She
summoned all her courage； and said： 〃I went into the park； the sun
must have been too hot。 I should like to go home to…morrow； if you
don't mind。 I can't bear not feeling well in other people's
houses。〃
She was conscious of a smile flickering over his face； then it grew
grave。
〃Ah！〃 he said； 〃yes。 The sun； a touch of that will last some days。
Will you be fit to travel； though？〃
She had a sudden conviction that he knew all about it； but that
since to know all about it was to feel himself ridiculoushe had
the power of making himself believe that he knew nothing。 Was this
fine of him； or was it hateful？
She closed her eyes and said：
〃My head is bad； but I SHALL be able。 Only I don't want a fuss
made。 Could we go by a train before they are down？〃
She heard him say：
〃Yes。 That will have its advantages。〃
There was not the faintest sound now； but of course he was still
there。 In that dumb； motionless presence was all her future。 Yes；
that would be her futurea thing without feeling； and without
motion。 A fearful curiosity came on her to look at it。 She opened
her gaze。 He was still standing just as he had been； his eyes
fixed on her。 But one hand； on the edge of his coat pocketout of
the picture； as it werewas nervously closing and unclosing。 And
suddenly she felt pity。 Not for her futurewhich must be like
that； but for him。 How dreadful to have grown so that all emotion
was exiledhow dreadful！ And she said gently：
〃I am sorry； Harold。〃
As if he had heard something strange and startling； his eyes
dilated in a curious way； he buried that nervous hand in his
pocket； turned； and went out。
XVII
When young Mark came on Sylvia by the logan…stone； it was less
surprising to him than if he had not known she was therehaving
watched her go。 She was sitting； all humped together； brooding
over the water； her sunbonnet thrown back； and that hair； in which
his star had caught； shining faint…gold under the sun。 He came on
her softly through the grass； and； when he was a little way off；
thought it best to halt。 If he startled her she might run away；
and he