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national degeneration。 But this is not a subject〃
〃Surely； the subject is of the most poignant interest to all young
people。〃 Again all the young ones raised their faces and moved
them slightly from side to side。
〃My dear lady； we are too prone to let the interest that things
arouse blind our judgment in regard to the advisability of
discussing them。 We let these speculations creep and creep until
they twine themselves round our faith and paralyze it。〃
One of the young men interjected suddenly： 〃Madre〃and was silent。
〃I shall not； I think〃it was the lady speaking〃be accused of
licence when I say that I have always felt that speculation is only
dangerous when indulged in by the crude intelligence。 If culture
has nothing to give us； then let us have no culture； but if culture
be； as I think it； indispensable； then we must accept the dangers
that culture brings。〃
Again the young people moved their faces； and again the younger of
the two young men said： 〃Madre〃
〃Dangers？ Have cultured people dangers？〃
Who had spoken thus？ Every eyebrow was going up； every mouth was
drooping； and there was silence。 The boy stared at his companion。
In what a strange voice she had made that little interjection！
There seemed a sort of flame； too； lighted in her eyes。 Then the
little grey…bearded man said； and his rather whispering voice
sounded hard and acid：
〃We are all human； my dear madam。〃
The boy felt his heart go thump at Anna's laugh。 It was just as if
she had said： 〃Ah！ but not yousurely！〃 And he got up to follow
her towards the door。
The English party had begun already talkingof the weather。
The two walked some way from the 'hut' in silence； before Anna
said：
〃You didn't like me when I laughed？〃
〃You hurt their feelings； I think。〃
〃I wanted tothe English Grundys！ Ah！ don't be cross with me！
They WERE English Grundys； weren't theyevery one？〃
She looked into his face so hard； that he felt the blood rush to
his cheeks； and a dizzy sensation of being drawn forward。
〃They have no blood； those people！ Their voices； their
supercilious eyes that look you up and down！ Oh！ I've had so much
of them！ That woman with her Liberalism； just as bad as any。 I
hate them all！〃
He would have liked to hate them； too； since she did； but they had
only seemed to him amusing。
〃They aren't human。 They don't FEEL！ Some day you'll know them。
They won't amuse you then！〃
She went on； in a quiet； almost dreamy voice：
〃Why do they come here？ It's still young and warm and good out
here。 Why don't they keep to their Culture； where no one knows
what it is to ache and feel hunger； and hearts don't beat。 Feel！〃
Disturbed beyond measure； the boy could not tell whether it was in
her heart or in his hand that the blood was pulsing so。 Was he
glad or sorry when she let his hand go？
〃Ah； well！ They can't spoil this day。 Let's rest。〃
At the edge of the larch…wood where they sat； were growing numbers
of little mountain pinks； with fringed edges and the sweetest scent
imaginable； and she got up presently to gather them。 But he stayed
where he was； and odd sensations stirred in him。 The blue of the
sky； the feathery green of the larch…trees； the mountains； were no
longer to him what they had been early that morning。
She came back with her hands full of the little pinks； spread her
fingers and let them drop。 They showered all over his face and
neck。 Never was so wonderful a scent； never such a strange feeling
as they gave him。 They clung to his hair； his forehead； his eyes；
one even got caught on the curve of his lips； and he stared up at
her through their fringed petals。 There must have been something
wild in his eyes then； something of the feeling that was stinging
his heart； for her smile died； she walked away； and stood with her
face turned from him。 Confused； and unhappy； he gathered the
strewn flowers； and not till he had collected every one did he get
up and shyly take them to her； where she still stood； gazing into
the depths of the larch…wood。
V
What did he know of women； that should make him understand？ At his
public school he had seen none to speak to； at Oxford； only this
one。 At home in the holidays； not any； save his sister Cicely。
The two hobbies of their guardian； fishing； and the antiquities of
his native county； rendered him averse to society； so that his
little Devonshire manor…house； with its black oak panels and its
wild stone…walled park along the river…side was； from year's end to
year's end； innocent of all petticoats； save those of Cicely and
old Miss Tring； the governess。 Then； too； the boy was shy。 No；
there was nothing in his past； of not yet quite nineteen years； to
go by。 He was not of those youths who are always thinking of
conquests。 The very idea of conquest seemed to him vulgar； mean；
horrid。 There must be many signs indeed before it would come into
his head that a woman was in love with him； especially the one to
whom he looked up； and thought so beautiful。 For before all beauty
he was humble； inclined to think himself a clod。 It was the part
of life which was always unconsciously sacred； and to be approached
trembling。 The more he admired； the more tremulous and diffident
he became。 And so； after his one wild moment； when she plucked
those sweet…scented blossoms and dropped them over him； he felt
abashed； and walking home beside her he was quieter than ever；
awkward to the depths of his soul。
If there were confusion in his heart which had been innocent of
trouble； what must there have been in hers； that for so long had
secretly desired the dawning of that confusion？ And she； too； was
very silent。
Passing a church with open door in the outskirts of the village；
she said：
〃Don't wait for meI want to go in here a little。〃
In the empty twilight within； one figure； a countrywoman in her
black shawl； was kneelingmarvellously still。 He would have liked
to stay。 That kneeling figure； the smile of the sunlight filtering
through into the half darkness！ He lingered long enough to see
Anna； too； go down on her knees in the stillness。 Was she praying？
Again he had the turbulent feeling with which he had watched her
pluck those flowers。 She looked so splendid kneeling there！ It
was caddish to feel like that； when she was praying； and he turned
quickly away into the road。 But that sharp； sweet stinging
sensation did not leave him。 He shut his eyes to get rid of her
imageand instantly she became ten times more visible； his feeling
ten times stronger。 He mounted to the hotel； there on the terrace
was his tutor。 And oddly enough； the sight of him at that moment
was no more embarrassing than if it had been the hotel concierge。
Stormer did not somehow seem to count； did not seem to want you to
count him。 Besides； he was so oldnearly fifty！
The man who was so old was posed in a characteristic attitude
hands in the pockets of his Norfolk jacket； one shoulder slightly
raised； head just a little on one side； as if preparing to quiz
something。 He spoke as Lennan came up； smilingbut not with his
eyes。
〃Well； young man； and what have you done w