Colonel；　who　really　loved　a　horse；　was　deep　in　admiration。　　He
  liked　its　head　and　he　liked　its　hocks；　above　all；　he　liked　its　eye。
  A　fine　creature；　all　sense　and　fireperhaps　just　a　little　straight
  in　the　shoulder　for　coming　down　the　hill！　　And　in　the　midst　of　his
  examination　he　found　himself　staring　at　his　niece。　　What　breeding
  the　child　showed；　with　her　delicate　arched　brows；　little　ears；　and
  fine；　close　nostrils；　and　the　way　she　movedso　sure　and　springy。
  She　was　too　pretty　to　suffer！　　A　shame！　　If　she　hadn't　been　so
  pretty　that　young　fellow　wouldn't　have　fallen　in　love　with　her。　　If
  she　weren't　so　prettythat　husband　of　hers　wouldn't！　　And　the
  Colonel　dropped　his　gaze；　startled　by　the　discovery　he　had　stumbled
  on。　　If　she　hadn't　been　so　pretty！　　Was　that　the　meaning　of　it　all？
  The　cynicism　of　his　own　reflection　struck　him　between　wind　and
  water。　　And　yet　something　in　himself　seemed　to　confirm　it　somehow。
  What　then？　　Was　he　to　let　them　tear　her　in　two　between　them；
  destroying　her；　because　she　was　so　pretty？　　And　somehow　this
  discovery　of　histhat　passion　springs　from　worship　of　beauty　and
  warmth；　of　form　and　colourdisturbed　him　horribly；　for　he　had　no
  habit　of　philosophy。　　The　thought　seemed　to　him　strangely　crude；
  even　immoral。　　That　she　should　be　thus　between　two　ravening
  desiresa　bird　between　two　hawks；　a　fruit　between　two　mouths！　　It
  was　a　way　of　looking　at　things　that　had　never　before　occurred　to
  him。　　The　idea　of　a　husband　clutching　at　his　wife；　the　idea　of　that
  young　man　who　looked　so　gentle；　swooping　down　on　her；　and　the　idea
  that　if　she　faded；　lost　her　looks；　went　off；　their　greed；　indeed；
  any　man's；　would　die　awayall　these　horrible　ideas　hurt　him　the
  more　for　the　remarkable　suddenness　with　which　they　had　come　to　him。
  A　tragic　business！　　Dolly　had　said　so。　　Queer　and　quickwere
  women！　　But　his　resolution　that　the　day　was　to　be　jolly　soon
  recurred　to　him；　and　he　hastily　resumed　inspection　of　his　fancy。
  Perhaps　they　ought　to　have　a　ten…pound　note　on　it；　and　they　had
  better　get　back　to　the　Stand！　　And　as　they　went　the　Colonel　saw；
  standing　beneath　a　tree　at　a　little　distance；　a　young　man　that　he
  could　have　sworn　was　Lennan。　　Not　likely　for　an　artist　chap　to　be
  down　here！　　But　it　WAS　undoubtedly　young　Lennan；　brushed…up；　in　a
  top…hat。　　Fortunately；　however；　his　face　was　not　turned　in　their
  direction。　　He　said　nothing　to　Olive；　not　wishingespecially　after
  those　unpleasant　thoughtsto　take　responsibility；　and　he　kept　her
  moving　towards　the　gate；　congratulating　himself　that　his　eyes　had
  been　so　sharp。　　In　the　crush　there　he　was　separated　from　her　a
  little；　but　she　was　soon　beside　him　again；　and　more　than　ever　he
  congratulated　himself　that　nothing　had　occurred　to　upset　her　and
  spoil　the　day。　　Her　cheeks　were　warm　enough　now；　her　dark　eyes
  glowing。　　She　was　excited　no　doubt　by　thoughts　of　the　race；　and　of
  the　'tenner'　he　was　going　to　put　on　for　her。
  He　recounted　the　matter　afterwards　to　Mrs。　Ercott。　　〃That　chestnut
  Tabor　put　me　on　to　finished　nowherecouldn't　get　down　the　hill
  knew　it　wouldn't　the　moment　I　set　eyes　on　it。　　But　the　child
  enjoyed　herself。　　Wish　you'd　been　there；　my　dear！〃　　Of　his　deeper
  thoughts　and　of　that　glimpse　of　young　Lennan　he　did　not　speak；　for
  on　the　way　home　an　ugly　suspicion　had　attacked　him。　　Had　the　young
  fellow；　after　all；　seen　and　managed　to　get　close　to　her　in　the
  crush　at　the　paddock　gateway？
  XIV
  That　letter　of　hers　fanned　the　flame　in　Lennan　as　nothing　had　yet
  fanned　it。　　Earthiness！　　Was　it　earthiness　to　love　as　he　did？　　If
  so；　then　not　for　all　the　world　would　he　be　otherwise　than　earthy。
  In　the　shock　of　reading　it；　he　crossed　his　Rubicon；　and　burned　his
  boats　behind　him。　　No　more　did　the　pale　ghost；　chivalrous　devotion；
  haunt　him。　　He　knew　now　that　he　could　not　stop　short。　　Since　she
  asked　him；　he　must　not；　of　course；　try　to　see　her　just　yet。　　But
  when　he　did；　then　he　would　fight　for　his　life；　the　thought　that　she
  might　be　meaning　to　slip　away　from　him　was　too　utterly　unbearable。
  But　she　could　not　be　meaning　that！　　She　would　never　be　so　cruel！
  Ah！　she　wouldshe　must　come　to　him　in　the　end！　　The　world；　life
  itself；　would　be　well　lost　for　love　of　her！
  Thus　resolved；　he　was　even　able　to　work　again；　and　all　that　Tuesday
  he　modelled　at　a　big　version　of　the　fantastic；　bull…like　figure　he
  had　conceived　after　the　Colonel　left　him　up　on　the　hillside　at
  Beaulieu。　　He　worked　at　it　with　a　sort　of　evil　joy。　　Into　this
  creature　he　would　put　the　spirit　of　possession　that　held　her　from
  him。　　And　while　his　fingers　forced　the　clay；　he　felt　as　if　he　had
  Cramier's　neck　within　his　grip。　　Yet；　now　that　he　had　resolved　to
  take　her　if　he　could；　he　had　not　quite　the　same　hatred。　　After　all；
  this　man　loved　her　too；　could　not　help　it　that　she　loathed　him；
  could　not　help　it　that　he　had　the　disposition　of　her；　body　and
  soul！
  June　had　come　in　with　skies　of　a　blue　that　not　even　London　glare
  and　dust　could　pale。　　In　every　square　and　park　and　patch　of　green
  the　air　simmered　with　life　and　with　the　music　of　birds　swaying　on
  little　boughs。　　Piano　organs　in　the　streets　were　no　longer　wistful
  for　the　South；　lovers　already　sat　in　the　shade　of　trees。
  To　remain　indoors；　when　he　was　not　working；　was　sheer　torture；　for
  he　could　not　read；　and　had　lost　all　interest　in　the　little
  excitements；　amusements；　occupations　that　go　to　make　up　the　normal
  life　of　man。　　Every　outer　thing　seemed　to　have　dropped　off；
  shrivelled；　leaving　him　just　a　condition　of　the　spirit；　a　state　of
  mind。
  Lying　awake　he　would　think　of　things　in　the　past；　and　they　would
  mean　nothingall　dissolved　and　dispersed　by　the　heat　of　this
  feeling　in　him。　　Indeed；　his　sense　of　isolation　was　so　strong　that
  he　could　not　even　believe　that　he　had　lived　through　the　facts　which
  his　memory　apprehended。　　He　had　become　one　burning　moodthat；　and
  nothing　more。
  To　be　out；　especially　amongst　trees；　was　the　only　solace。
  And　he　sat　for　a　long　time　that　evening　under　a　large　lime…tree　on
  a　knoll　above　the　Serpentine。　　There　was　very　little　breeze；　just
  enough　to　keep　alive　a　kind　of　whispering。　　What　if　men　and　women；
  when　they　had　lived　their　gusty　lives；　became　trees！　　What　if
  someone　who　had　burned　and　ached　were　now　spreading　over　him　this
  leafy　peacethis　blue…black　shadow　against　the　stars？　　Or　were　the
  stars；　perhaps；　the　souls　of　men　and　women　escaped　for　ever　from
  love　and　longing？　　He　broke　off　a　branch　of　the　lime　and　drew　it
  across　his　face。　　It　was　not　yet　in　flower；　but　it　smelled　lemony
  and　fresh　even　here　in　London。　　If　only　for　a　moment　he　could
  desert　his　own　heart；　and　rest　with　the　trees　and　stars！
  No　further　letter　came　from　her　next　morning；　and　he　soon　lost　his
  power　to　work。　　It　was　Derby　Day。　　He　determined　to　go　down。
  Perhaps　she　would　be　there。　　Even　if　she　were　not；　he　might　find
  some　little　distraction　in　the　crowd　and　the　horses。　　He　had　seen
  her　in　the　paddock　long　before　the　Colonel's　sharp　eyes　detected
  him；　and；　following　in　the　crush；　managed　to　touch　her　hand　in　the
  crowded　gateway；　and　whisper：　〃To…morrow；　the　National　Gallery；　at
  four　o'clockby　the　Bacchus　and　Ariadne。　　For　God's　sake！〃　　Her
  gloved　hand　pressed　his　hard；　and　she　was　gone。　　He　stayed　in　the
  paddock；　too　happy　almost　to　breathe。　。　。　。
  Next　day；　while　waiting　before　that　picture；　he　looked　at　it　with
  wonder。　　For　there　seemed　his　own　passion　transfigured　in　the
  darkening　star…crowned　sky；　and　the　eyes　of　the　leaping　god。　　In
  spirit；　was　he　not　always　rushing　to　her　like　that？　　Minutes
  passed；　and　she　did　not　come。　　What　should　he　do　if　she　failed　him？
  Surely　die　of　disappointment　and　despair。　。　。　。　　He　had　little
  enough　experience　as　yet　of　the　toughness　of　the　human　heart；　how
  life　bruises　and　crushes；　yet　leaves　it　beating。　。　。　。　　Then；　from
  an　unlikely　quarter；　he　saw　her　coming。
  They　walked　in　silence　down　to　the　quiet　rooms　where　the　Turner
  watercolours　hung。　　No　one；　save　two　Frenchmen　and　an　old　official；
  watched　them　passing　slowly　before　those　little　pictures；　till　they
  came　to　the　end　wall；　and；　unseen；　unheard　by　any　but　her；　he　could
  begin！
  The　arguments　he　had　so　carefully　rehearsed　were　all　forgotten；
  nothing　left　but　an　incoherent　pleading。　　Life　without　her　was　not
  life；　and　they　had　only　one　life　for　loveone　summer。　　It　was　all
  dark　where　she　was　notthe　very　sun　itself　was　dark。　　Better　to
  die　than　to　live　such　false；　broken　lives；　apart　from　each　other。
  Better　to　die　at　once　than　to　live　wanting　each　other；　longing　and
  longing；　and　watching　each　other's　sorrow。　　And　all　for　the　sake　of
  what？　　It　maddened；　killed　him；　to　think　of　that　man　touching　her
  when　he　knew　she　did　but　hate　him。　　It　shamed　all　manhood；　it　could
  not　be　good　to　help　such　things　to　be。　　A　vow　when　the　spirit　of　it
  was　gone　was　only　superstition；　it　was　wicked　to　waste　one's　life
  for　the　sake　of　that。　　Societyshe　knew；　she　must　knowonly　cared
  for　the　forms；　the　outsides　of　things。　　And　what　did　it　matter　what
  Society　thought？　　It　had　no　soul；　no　feeling；　nothing。　　And　if　it
  were　said　they　ought　to　sacrifice　themselves　for　the　sake　of
  others；　to　make　things　happier　in　the　world；　she　must　know　that　was
  only　true　when　love　was　light　and　selfish；　but　not　w