pocket for a cigarette.
“You are very young,” he said. “I don’t think you really know much about love.”
“I do now,” she said proudly, “and loving you like this makes me love everything and everyone much more. I want us all to be happy, and the children wouldn’t be happy if I deserted them—of course I’d leave them behind on our honeymoon, but I’d make arrangements for them to be properly looked after till we came home.”
“Need you be so sentimental and so practical?” he said moodily. “I hate practical people, they take all the magic out of life.”
“But, Miles,” she said unhappily, “I couldn’t just abandon Anna and Cyril—you wouldn’t want me to do that.”
He flung his cigarette down and ground it viciously into the moss with the heel of his shoe.
“Yes, I would,” he answered savagely. “I want you to forget the existence of everyone but me. We love one another and can make our own world, but other people always butt in and spoil things. If you really loved me, you’d come home with me now, but you don’t love me enough to do as I ask, so I’m wasting my time.” He stood up and looked down at her. “Good-bye,” he said.
She rose swiftly and caught his arm. “Miles,” she said, “Miles, oh, please don’t talk to me like that—like a stranger. I love you and will do anything that you ask.”
“Anything?”
“Give me a little time,” she said, “to-morrow—I can arrange things for to-morrow.”
“Arrange things! You can’t arrange love—like booking seats at a pantomime—love should just happen.”
She gave a little sob and buried her face against the rough tweed of his coat. “Oh, Miles, I was so happy—don’t spoil things.”
“It’s you who are spoiling things,” he said. But he put his arms round her again and held her close. “Little silly,” he said gently, “don’t you realize that no one else matters in the world but you and me?”
“I think you must be a magician,” she said, half laughing through her tears. “You make it seem all wrong that I should consider my duty, and only right that I should abandon it.”
“Love is magical,” he said, “and the rightest thing in life,” and kissed her, so that her words of protest were made prisoners between their lips.
A stick cracked in the undergrowth behind them. In the stillness of that quiet place it sounded like a pistol shot. Lucy pushed him away and looked round in alarm.
“Someone is there,” she said, “someone is watching us.”
“It’s only a rabbit,” he said easily. “I can hear it scuttling away home to tell all the other rabbits that Mrs. Muir is behaving in a most depraved manner in the greenwood.”
“You are so absurd,” she said, smiling, “but it is getting late, and I must go home, too. You’ll be here to-morrow?”
“Yes,” he said, “I’ll be here to-morrow, though God knows why I come, when you are so hard-hearted.”
“Hard-hearted! If you could just see my heart!”
“What should I see?” he asked.
She smiled shyly up at him. “Perhaps I’ll show you to-morrow,” she whispered, and ran from him before he could prevent her.
At the edge of the clearing she glanced back to wave good-bye, but he was not looking. He had taken a letter from his pocket, and as she watched, he suddenly tore it into small fragments that fluttered down on the green moss like wind-blown petals of a dead flower. He strode away, slashing at the young bluebells with his stick.
From the first meeting she had had a curious reluctance in discussing the situation with Captain Gregg. She remained with the children until they were asleep, and, undressing in Anna’s room, crept quietly into her own and into bed. She pulled the blankets up about her ears, feigning deafness and sleep. She had no wish to speak of Miles Blane with Captain Gregg. It would be, she felt, humiliating to confess so soon that he had been right. But that night the captain refused to be put
“You are very young,” he said. “I don’t think you really know much about love.”
“I do now,” she said proudly, “and loving you like this makes me love everything and everyone much more. I want us all to be happy, and the children wouldn’t be happy if I deserted them—of course I’d leave them behind on our honeymoon, but I’d make arrangements for them to be properly looked after till we came home.”
“Need you be so sentimental and so practical?” he said moodily. “I hate practical people, they take all the magic out of life.”
“But, Miles,” she said unhappily, “I couldn’t just abandon Anna and Cyril—you wouldn’t want me to do that.”
He flung his cigarette down and ground it viciously into the moss with the heel of his shoe.
“Yes, I would,” he answered savagely. “I want you to forget the existence of everyone but me. We love one another and can make our own world, but other people always butt in and spoil things. If you really loved me, you’d come home with me now, but you don’t love me enough to do as I ask, so I’m wasting my time.” He stood up and looked down at her. “Good-bye,” he said.
She rose swiftly and caught his arm. “Miles,” she said, “Miles, oh, please don’t talk to me like that—like a stranger. I love you and will do anything that you ask.”
“Anything?”
“Give me a little time,” she said, “to-morrow—I can arrange things for to-morrow.”
“Arrange things! You can’t arrange love—like booking seats at a pantomime—love should just happen.”
She gave a little sob and buried her face against the rough tweed of his coat. “Oh, Miles, I was so happy—don’t spoil things.”
“It’s you who are spoiling things,” he said. But he put his arms round her again and held her close. “Little silly,” he said gently, “don’t you realize that no one else matters in the world but you and me?”
“I think you must be a magician,” she said, half laughing through her tears. “You make it seem all wrong that I should consider my duty, and only right that I should abandon it.”
“Love is magical,” he said, “and the rightest thing in life,” and kissed her, so that her words of protest were made prisoners between their lips.
A stick cracked in the undergrowth behind them. In the stillness of that quiet place it sounded like a pistol shot. Lucy pushed him away and looked round in alarm.
“Someone is there,” she said, “someone is watching us.”
“It’s only a rabbit,” he said easily. “I can hear it scuttling away home to tell all the other rabbits that Mrs. Muir is behaving in a most depraved manner in the greenwood.”
“You are so absurd,” she said, smiling, “but it is getting late, and I must go home, too. You’ll be here to-morrow?”
“Yes,” he said, “I’ll be here to-morrow, though God knows why I come, when you are so hard-hearted.”
“Hard-hearted! If you could just see my heart!”
“What should I see?” he asked.
She smiled shyly up at him. “Perhaps I’ll show you to-morrow,” she whispered, and ran from him before he could prevent her.
At the edge of the clearing she glanced back to wave good-bye, but he was not looking. He had taken a letter from his pocket, and as she watched, he suddenly tore it into small fragments that fluttered down on the green moss like wind-blown petals of a dead flower. He strode away, slashing at the young bluebells with his stick.
From the first meeting she had had a curious reluctance in discussing the situation with Captain Gregg. She remained with the children until they were asleep, and, undressing in Anna’s room, crept quietly into her own and into bed. She pulled the blankets up about her ears, feigning deafness and sleep. She had no wish to speak of Miles Blane with Captain Gregg. It would be, she felt, humiliating to confess so soon that he had been right. But that night the captain refused to be put
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