Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/150

 Lucy stepped out of the gate about two o’clock in the afternoon, with a book in her hand. The old lady was taking a nap after dinner. The room was hot and oppressive, and the troublesome flies were everywhere,—they seemed to be most annoying at just that time of the day.

At dinner Jiří ironically gave her her father’s regards. Oh, that father! She shook in disgust, and did not ask any farther, when or how he had come, or whether he had left again. She had that moment a feeling as if a bony hand had stretched ont from somewhere in her past, as if it drew her back and down by the hem of her garment. She ate little, and did not speak.

She was walking slowly, in a bright striped gown and with her parasol open, towards the castle park. She walked in the sun, for in the street there was no shade. She happened to look at the sunlit wall from which the heat was reflected in a burning stream. A feeling of inexplicable anxiety was upon her, and