O love, for delights!
“Are you ready to start?”
“I’ll see if they’ve packed the luncheon.”
“One moment. Where are we going today?”
“Llansallas; three miles from here.”
“What’s it like?” she asked.
“The loveliest place they knew of.”
“How wonderful! And we’ll have the whole day there?”
“Only you and I,” he said softly.
“Be quick. Don’t lose a moment, sweetheart. I dislike being alone— now.”
“Why?” he asked.
Mavis dropped her eyes.
“Adorable, modest little Mavis,” he laughed. “I’ll see about the grub.”
“You’ve forgotten something,” she pouted, as he moved towards the door.
“I hadn’t really. I wanted to see if you’d remember.”
“As if I’d forget,” she protested.
Their lips met; not once, but many times; they seemed reluctant to part.
* * * * * * *
Mavis was alone. She had spoken truly when she had hinted how she was averse to the company of her own thoughts. It was then that clouds seemed disposed to threaten the sun of her joy.
She went to the window of the hotel sitting-room, which overlooked the narrow road leading to Polperro village; beyond the cottages opposite was bare rock, which had been blasted to find room for stone habitations; above the naked stone was blue sky. Mavis tried to think about the sky in order to exclude a certain weighty matter from her mind. She had been five days in Cornwall, four of which had been spent with Perigal in Polperro. Mavis did her best to concentrate her thoughts upon the cerulean hue of the heavens; she wondered why it could not faithfully be matched in dress material owing to the peculiar quality of light in the colour of the sky. It was just another such a blue, so she thought, as she had seen on the morning of what was to have been her wedding day, when, heavy-eyed and life-weary, she had crept to the window of her room; then the gladness of the day appeared so indifferent to her sorrow that she had raged hopelessly, helplessly, at the ill fortune which had over-ridden her. This paroxysm of rebellion had left her physically inert, but mentally active. She had surveyed her life calmly, dispassionately, when it seemed that she had been deprived by cruel circumstance of parents, social position, friends, money, love: everything which had been her due. She had been convinced that she was treated with brutal injustice. The joyous singing of birds outside her window, the majestic climbing of the sun in the heavens maddened her. Her spirit had been aroused: she had wondered what she could do to defy fate to do its worst. The morning’s post had brought a letter from