circular tour in northern towns comparatively adjacent to Coalchester,
and when a fortnight of such recitals was ended, she was to return and
give still another recital at New Zion. Then there must be parting, real
black parting again. Meanwhile, the fortnight that lay between the two
days of meeting gained a curious sense of being really spent together.
As two walking together on a long road may separate, and one walk till
almost out of sight of the other and then slowly return, but the two
endure no sense of parting, feeling together all the time, so Isabel
and Theophil felt about this fortnight.

But did they speak no word, look no look all these hours, of all their
hearts cried out to say? Was Jenny there all the time? Nearly. Still
there was a moment granted them, which, added to the two moments
previously recorded, made a total perhaps of four minutes, which life so
far generously allowed them to be alone together in. Yet such is love's
miraculous velocity that it had said all it needed to say, given all, in
those four minutes. All it had to say to-night was just two Christian
names, said so solemnly, so tenderly, so honestly. Just "Isabel," just
"Theophil," and a long quiet clasp of hand and eyes. It was enough. It
is written.




CHAPTER XVIII


ONE DAY OUT OF ALL THE YEARS

It was not enough!