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 a fair way to be fulfilled. In putting the matter straight no greetings were exchanged, but Rodney and Cassandra chose seats as far apart as possible, and sat down with an air of people making a very temporary lodgment. Either Mrs. Hilbery was impervious to their discomfort, or chose to ignore it, or thought it high time that the subject was changed, for she did nothing but talk about Shakespeare’s tomb.

“So much earth and so much water and that sublime spirit brooding over it all,” she mused, and went on to sing her strange, half-earthly song of dawns and sunsets, of great poets, and the unchanged spirit of noble loving which they had taught, so that nothing changes, and one age is linked with another, and no one dies, and we all meet in spirit, until she appeared oblivious of any one in the room. But suddenly her remarks seemed to contract the enormously wide circle in which they were soaring and to alight, airily and temporarily, upon matters of more immediate moment.

“Katharine and Ralph,” she said, as if to try the sound “William and Cassandra.”

“I feel myself in an entirely false position,” said William desperately, thrusting himself into this breach in her reflections. “I’ve no right to be sitting here. Mr. Hilbery told me yesterday to leave the house. I’d no intention of coming back again. I shall now”

“I feel the same too,” Cassandra interrupted. “After what Uncle Trevor said to me last night”

“I have put you into a most odious position,” Rodney went on, rising from his seat, in which movement he was imitated simultaneously by Cassandra. “Until I have your father’s consent I have no right to speak to you—let alone in this house, where my conduct”—he looked at Katharine, stammered, and fell silent—“where my conduct has been reprehensible and inexcusable in the extreme,” he forced himself to continue. “I have