simple, childlike fancy of the words he read, to grasp at a better mind. Heath was one of those men who could not understand effortless faith; he was crushed by his own lack of success, and bowed down by his own failure. Since he could not rout the enemy single-handed, he believed that the battle was against the Hosts of the Lord. He knew no leisure from the war of his own thoughts, and as he clasped his hands, his face grew tense and set, and his eyes haggard and terrible. For a moment he sat very still, and his eyes followed the lines written by a man who had the faith of a little child: 

"But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they, By noon, most cunningly did steal away." 

Heath had never gathered flowers, either as a lesson to himself or a gift for others; they hardly spoke of careless beauty to him, they were emblems of lightness and thoughtlessness, and Heath had no time to stop and consider the lilies of the field. 

He moved suddenly like a man who is awakened from a thought heavier than sleep, and listened with a hunted look, the look of a man who is afraid of footsteps; he stood up, gathering his loose limbs together and watching the door. Steps came up the staircase, steps that stumbled a little, and if Heath had possessed Mhtoon Pah's art of reading the walk of his fellow creatures, he would have known that he might expect a woman and not a man. 

"Mr. Heath," a low voice called in the passage, and Heath's tension relaxed, giving place to surprise. The voice was strange to him, and he passed his handkerchief over his face and walked to the door, just as his name was called again, in the same low, penetrating voice. 

"Who wants me?" he asked, almost roughly, and then he saw a tall, dark woman standing at the top of the staircase. "Mrs. Wilder," he said in surprise, and she made a little imperious movement with her hand. 

"I did not call your servant, I came up, because I wanted to find you alone. You are alone?" 

"Certainly, I am alone." 

"May I come in?" Heath held the door open for her to pass, and she walked in, looking around the darkening room with hard, curious eyes. She took the chair he gave her, in silence, and sat down near the writing-table, and, feeling that she would speak after a time, Heath took his own place again and waited. 

"I hardly know where to begin," she said, always speaking in the same 

 Prev. P 39/164 next