ungrateful, therefore, to refuse to allow two of my most successful
books into the canon merely because they do not correspond with my
æstheticism. But a writer's æstheticism is his all; he cannot surrender
it, for his art is dependent upon it, and the single concession he can
make is that if an overwhelming demand should arise for these books
when he is among the gone--a storm before which the reed must bend--the
publisher shall be permitted to print 'Evelyn Innes' and 'Sister Teresa'
from the original editions, it being, however, clearly understood that
they are offered to the public only as apocrypha. But this permission
must not be understood to extend to certain books on which my name
appears--viz., 'Mike Fletcher,' 'Vain Fortune,' Parnell and His Island';
to some plays, 'Martin Luther,' 'The Strike at Arlingford,' 'The Bending
of the Boughs'; to a couple of volumes of verse entitled 'Pagan Poems'
and 'Flowers of Passion'--all these books, if they are ever reprinted
again, should be issued as the work of a disciple--Amico Moorini I put
forward as a suggestion.

G.M.




I


It was one of those enticing days at the beginning of May when white
clouds are drawn about the earth like curtains. The lake lay like a
mirror that somebody had breathed upon, the brown islands showing
through the mist faintly, with gray shadows falling into the water,
blurred at the edges. The ducks were talking in the reeds, the reeds