Howard woke early, after sweet and wild dreams of great landscapes and rich adventures; as his thoughts took shape, he began to feel as if he had passed some boundary yesterday; escaped, as a child escapes from a familiar garden into great vague woodlands.  There was his talk with Mrs. Graves first—­that had opened up for him a new region, indeed, of the mind and soul, and had revealed to him an old force, perhaps long within his grasp, but which he had never tried to use or wield.  And the vision too of Maud crossed his mind—­ a perfectly beautiful thing, which had risen like a star.  He did not think of it as love at all—­that did not cross his mind—­it was just the thought of something enchantingly and exquisitely beautiful, which disturbed him, awed him, threw his mind off its habitual track.  How extraordinarily lovely, simple, sweet, the girl had seemed to him in the dim room, in the faint light; and how fearless and frank she had been!  He was conscious only of something adorable, which raised, as beautiful things did, a sense of something unapproachable, some yearning which could not be satisfied.  How far away, how faded and dusty his ordinary contented Cambridge life now seemed to him!

He breakfasted alone, read a few letters which had been forwarded to him, and went to the library.  A few minutes later Miss Merry tapped at the door, and came in.

“Mrs. Graves asked me to say—­she was sorry she forgot to mention it—­that if you care for shooting or fishing, the keeper will come in and take your orders.  She thinks you might like to ask Jack to luncheon and go out with him; she sends you her love, and wants you to do what you like.”

“Thank you very much!” said Howard, “I rather expect Jack will be round here and I will ask him.  I know he would like it, and I should too—­if you are sure Mrs. Graves approves.”

“Oh, yes,” said Miss Merry, smiling, “she always approves of people doing what they like.”

Miss Merry still hesitated at the door.  “May I ask you another question, Mr. Kennedy—­I hope I am not troublesome—­I wonder if you could suggest some books for us to read?  I read a good deal to Mrs. Graves, and I am afraid we get rather into a groove.  We ought to read some of the new books; we want to know what people are saying and thinking—­we don’t want to get behind.”

“Why, of course,” said Howard, “I shall be delighted—­but I am afraid I am not likely to be of much use; I don’t read as much as I ought; but if you will tell me the sort of things you care about, and what you have been reading, we will try to make out a list.  Won’t you sit down and see what we can do?”

“Oh, I don’t like to interrupt you,” said Miss Merry.  “But if you would be so kind.”

She sat down at the far end of the table, and Howard was dimly and amusedly conscious that this tete-a-tete was of the nature of a romantic adventure to the little lady.  He was surprised, when they came to talk, to find how much they appeared to have read of a solid kind.  He asked if they had any plan.