morning with sensations as indescribable as they are delightful. Whichever way you tip it, the kaleidoscope of the future arranges itself in equally attractive shapes of rainbow hue, and the prospect over land or sea—even if it is raining—looks brilliant green, and brighter red, and brightest yellow. Upon that glorious “next day” of Jack’s the weather was quite a thing apart for February—partaking of the warmth of May, and owing that fact to a sun which early June need not have scorned to own. Under the circumstances the house party overflowed the house and ravaged the surrounding country, and Jack and Mrs. Rosscott began it all by having the highest cart and the fastest cob in the stables and making for the forest just as the clock was tolling ten. “Do you want a groom?” asked Burnett, who was occasionally very cruel. “Well, I’m not going to wait for him to get ready now,” replied his sister, who had sharp wits and did not disdain to give even her own family the benefit of them. Then she gathered up the reins and whip in a most scientific manner, and they were off. Jack folded his arms. He was simply flooded, drenched, and saturated with joy. The evening before had been Elysium when she had only been his now and again for a minute’s conversation, but now she was to be his and his alone until—until they came back—and his mind seemed able to grasp no dearer outlines of the form which Bliss Incarnate may be supposed to take. He didn’t care where they went or what they saw or what they talked of, just if only he and she might be going, seeing, and talking for the benefit of one another and of one another alone. They bowled away upon a firm, hard road that skirted the park, and then plunged deeply into the forest. Mrs. Rosscott handled the reins and the whip with the hands of an expert. “I like to drive,” said she. “You appear to,” he answered. “I like to do everything,” she said. “I’m very athletic and energetic.” “I’m glad of that,” he told her warmly. “I like athletic girls.”
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