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neighbourhood。 Christopher withdrew into the shade； and wheeled
round to the front of the building that contained his old love。
Here he gazed and idled； as many a man has done before him
wondering which room the fair poetess occupied； waiting till lights
began to appear in the upper windowswhich they did as uncertainly
as glow…worms blinking up at eventideand warming with currents of
revived feeling in perhaps the sweetest of all conditions。 New love
is brightest； and long love is greatest； but revived love is the
tenderest thing known upon earth。
Occupied thus； Christopher was greatly surprised to see； on casually
glancing to one side； another man standing close to the shadowy
trunk of another tree； in a similar attitude to his own； gazing；
with arms folded； as blankly at the windows of the house as
Christopher himself had been gazing。 Not willing to be discovered；
Christopher stuck closer to his tree。 While he waited thus； the
stranger began murmuring words； in a slow soft voice。 Christopher
listened till he heard the following：
'Pale was the day and rayless； love；
That had an eve so dim。'
Two well…known lines from one of Ethelberta's poems。
Jealousy is a familiar kind of heat which disfigures； licks
playfully； clouds； blackens； and boils a man as a fire does a pot；
and on recognizing these pilferings from what he had grown to regard
as his own treasury； Christopher's fingers began to nestle with
great vigour in the palms of his hands。 Three or four minutes
passed； when the unknown rival gave a last glance at the windows；
and walked away。 Christopher did not like the look of that walk at
allthere was grace enough in it to suggest that his antagonist had
no mean chance of finding favour in a woman's eyes。 A sigh； too；
seemed to proceed from the stranger's breast； but as their distance
apart was too great for any such sound to be heard by any
possibility； Christopher set down that to imagination； or to the
brushing of the wind over the trees。
The lighted windows went out one by one； and all the house was in
darkness。 Julian then walked off himself； with a vigour that was
spasmodic only； and with much less brightness of mind than he had
experienced on his journey hither。 The stranger had gone another
way； and Christopher saw no more of him。 When he reached
Sandbourne； Faith was still sitting up。
'But I told you I was going to take a long walk；' he said。
'No； Christopher： really you did not。 How tired and sad you do
lookthough I always know beforehand when you are in that state：
one of your feet has a drag about it as you pass along the pavement
outside the window。'
'Yes； I forgot that I did not tell you。'
He could not begin to describe his pilgrimage： it was too silly a
thing even for her to hear of。
'It does not matter at all about my staying up；' said Faith
assuringly； 'that is； if exercise benefits you。 Walking up and down
the lane； I suppose？'
'No； not walking up and down the lane。'
'The turnpike…road to Rookington is pleasant。'
'Faith； that is really where I have been。 How came you to know？'
'I only guessed。 Verses and an accidental meeting produce a special
journey。'
'Ethelberta is a fine woman； physically and mentally； both。 I
wonder people do not talk about her twice as much as they do。'
'Then surely you are getting attached to her again。 You think you
discover in her more than anybody else does； and love begins with a
sense of superior discernment。'
'No； no。 That is only nonsense；' he said hurriedly。 'However； love
her or love her not； I can keep a corner of my heart for you； Faith。
There is another brute after her too； it seems。'
'Of course there is： I expect there are many。 Her position in
society is above ours； so that it is an unwise course to go
troubling yourself more about her。'
'No。 If a needy man must be so foolish as to fall in love； it is
best to do so where he cannot double his foolishness by marrying the
woman。'
'I don't like to hear you talk so slightingly of what poor father
did。'
Christopher fixed his attention on the supper。 That night； late as
it was； when Faith was in bed and sleeping； he sat before a sheet of
music…paper； neatly copying his composition upon it。 The manuscript
was intended as an offering to Ethelberta at the first convenient
opportunity。
'Well； after all my trouble to find out about Ethelberta； here comes
the clue unasked for；' said the musician to his sister a few days
later。
She turned and saw that he was reading the Wessex Reflector。
'What is it？' asked Faith。
'The secret of the true authorship of the book is out at last； and
it is Ethelberta of course。 I am so glad to have it proved hers。'
'But can we believe？'
'O yes。 Just hear what 〃Our London Correspondent〃 says。 It is one
of the nicest bits of gossip that he has furnished us with for a
long time。'
'Yes： now read it； do。'
'〃The author of 'Metres by E。'〃' Christopher began； '〃a book of
which so much has been said and conjectured； and one； in fact； that
has been the chief talk for several weeks past of the literary
circles to which I belong； is a young lady who was a widow before
she reached the age of eighteen； and is now not far beyond her
fourth lustrum。 I was additionally informed by a friend whom I met
yesterday on his way to the House of Lords； that her name is Mrs。
PetherwinChristian name Ethelberta； and that she resides with her
mother…in…law at their house in Exonbury Crescent。 She is；
moreover； the daughter of the late Bishop of Silchester （if report
may be believed）； whose active benevolence； as your readers know；
left his family in comparatively straitened circumstances at his
death。 The marriage was a secret one； and much against the wish of
her husband's friends； who are wealthy people on all sides。 The
death of the bridegroom two or three weeks after the wedding led to
a reconciliation； and the young poetess was taken to the home which
she still occupies； devoted to the composition of such brilliant
effusions as those the world has lately been favoured with from her
pen。〃'
'If you want to send her your music； you can do so now；' said Faith。
'I might have sent it before； but I wanted to deliver it personally。
However； it is all the same now； I suppose； whether I send it or
not。 I always knew that our destinies would lie apart； though she
was once temporarily under a cloud。 Her momentary inspiration to
write that 〃Cancelled Words〃 was the worst possible omen for me。 It
showed that； thinking me no longer useful as a practical chance； she
would make me ornamental as a poetical regret。 But I'll send the
manuscript of the song。'
'In the way of business； as a composer only； and you must say to
yourself； 〃Ethelberta； as thou art but woman； I dare； but as widow I
fear thee。〃'
Notwithstanding Christopher's affected carelessness； that evening
saw a great deal of nicety bestowed upon the operation of wrapping
up and sending off the song。 He dropped it into the box and heard
it fall； and with the curious power which he possessed of setting
his wisdom to watch any particular folly in hims